Marilyn Manson
Mechanical Animals

THE REVIEW

I am very Brutal, and I believe that no one can deny that; but even the brutal ones make mistakes, a bit like when the two ants were working on their seasonal supplies and went to Lidl to buy Fink brau beer, while the grasshopper played HIM and then in the summer had nothing to drink and died of thirst, the poser insect. Meanwhile, the ants drank and got disgracefully drunk, burping, and once quenched their thirst, they played Cannibal Corpse and smashed the poser insect’s carcass. I, like the grasshopper, sometimes forget to buy beer, and then dad kicks my ass, so I take the inverted cross and chase him away and then beat him up because he can buy the beer himself. Dad enjoys it when I beat him up because if I break his ribs, he can take medical leave and spend the day at the bar talking about tits and asses with his friends. All this when I am Brutal. But when I forget to buy beer (which is a metaphor, that is, something between anaphora and epiphora), that is, when I forget to be Brutal, Brutal things happen. This morning I woke up wanting to eat a human heart, but mom hadn’t bought it, so I beat her, although she then said “hey!” and I said “ohu,” so she knocked all my teeth out with Sister Germana’s agenda. Indeed, Sister Germana's agenda contains a self-defense course against gays, metalheads, divorcees, and even how to bring Welby back to life and let him rot for another 30 years. This episode convinces me that I must truly "decapitate the prophet" and "kill the Christian" and even "smash the Bible" and "refuse penance." I want to do something for the union of the evil, sulfurous black Satanists because now I am fed up with Sister Germana teaching my mother to cook fancy dishes (which are not at all Brutal) and to embroider those damn flowers even on my upside-down cross backpack with the upright cross patch so that no matter how you turn it, there’s something upside-down on it. I call Ghaal and ask him where the takeaway is where he orders human pieces to eat, but he says a true black metal hunter finds victims in the woods or at most on the sidewalks after eleven at night. “It seems that Donato Bilancia and Pietro Pacciani listened to Black,” I think, but for now, I shelve the idea of lunching on human remains. I want to be the arch-nemesis.

So I go online and type “pure Satan 100%,” and I find myself on Marylin Manson’s website, a true evil Satanist who challenges Benedict XVI to pee further than he can and who constantly offers himself as a gigolo to nuns. I think this person must definitely be a 100% blasphemous, pure evil Satanist, a bit north and Black, but above all, a true malevolent anti-Christian that not even Glenn Benton can keep up with. So I order "Mechanical Animals," this record with Marylin's body (with smaller tits) and Manson's face that together make Marylin Manson, and it's a record that praises civil unions provided there’s zoophilia involved. The cover scares me because this guy looks at me in a strange way, and sometimes I fear he might appear behind me and shove it up my ass, but after all, if this is the effect it has on me, who am Brutal, imagine what it does to Sister Germana, who isn’t! "Mechanical Animals" must be mine, and for the occasion, I pop pills like a pig and scream "Fuck Me Jesus" while writhing in truly malevolent white froth. Today is another day; indeed, it's no longer yesterday's today but today's today, while tomorrow will be tomorrow’s tomorrow or maybe today’s tomorrow...dunno, I’ll tell you tomorrow. In any case, I’ve decided that today I must do something truly malevolent, so I filled the aquarium with piss and then threw my sister’s hamster in; because I hate Geronimo Stilton, and so I take out those like him while listening to "drowning in viscera." As he is about to die, I offer him the chance to save himself by clinging to a fishing hook when someone rings the doorbell. I let it ring; not even the postman will take away this subtle pleasure! But then at some point, I hear knocks against the door; I look through the peephole and see that it’s Marylin Manson trying to knock it down with dick blows, and then he has makeup on one eye and not the other, or maybe one is black and one is blue, or maybe he has no eyes because he's even more demonic. I open the door because he is a true satanic star that airs on channel 666 and charges 666 euros for a ticket, and he hands me "Mechanical Animals," and I ask if he really has tits, but he pisses in the living room and eats the American flag. Brutal! Then he tells me I must learn things from him like fucking a porn star and then telling everyone I’m gay. I put on the CD, and this music comes on that’s a bit electronic and a bit not, a bit metal and a bit not, but above all, very satanic and truly transgressive. The messages conveyed are very profound and truly Luciferian, and indeed the songs say more or less “I do drugs and do what I want, if I want to screw a pony, I do it, and if a pony wants to screw me, I let it, and if I want to spit in someone’s face, I do, and if someone spits in my face, it means they’ve understood everything, too.” I start embracing this lifestyle, so I go to Jolly bar and steal a pack of cigarettes, as I can do what I want. Unfortunately, the tobacconist must be very Catholic, so he beats me until I shut up for a month. On my way home, I meet a girl who turns me on, and I lick her cheek, but she calls the tobacconist again, who beats me up good. “These Marylin Manson tricks have leaks,” I say, so the tobacconist reveals himself, and I find out that he is Glenn Benton; I recognize him because he has an ear cut off from a chicken scissors shot he gave himself in the initiation rite of the true malevolent black satanic goatish and infernal Satanists. I tell him, "are you crazy to beat me up like that? I’m not your bass! Mind you, I’ll call Marylin Manson who’ll shove it up your ass.” At these words, Glenn bursts into a hearty laugh (not as hefty as Jack Owen's anyway), and in a flash Jon Nodveidt materializes next to him, summoned from the kingdom of the evil, malevolent, cruel Master Sire. Glenn tells me he has the remedy for the sodomites while he keeps Jon on a leash; as Marylin materializes, Glenn orders “attack Jon!” and he lunges at Marylin, beating him to death and shouting “i'll thrive on evil eternally.” The police arrest him for the second time and foretell ten years in jail for the second time, so he shoots himself for the second time and dies twice. Perhaps he is more Brutal. But Glenn brands me with a hot cross and warns me never to betray him again, or he’ll make me end up like Fabio Tollis. I know not to mess with Glenn so I teach him how to play bass, and it all ends here. I immediately threw away “Mechanical Animals” because today I learned that it’s better to have Glenn as a friend than an enemy; he indeed can keep a real satanic dog and servant of Evil on a leash, and besides, Jon Nodveit didn’t seem like a mechanical dog at all.

I return home, and while I poop, I read the self-defense course against gays by Sister Germana.