In the corner of the room are countless giant paintings. Countless because there are a lot, maybe thirty, but also because they're strewn about and stacked on top of each other. Marilyn Manson is a phenomenal artist, whose stunning portraits are these devil-on-their-shoulder versions of friends, freaks, bastards, and his beloveds: they're breathtaking studies of the dark, damaged shadow of beauty. 在房间的一角有数不清的巨大画作。数不清,是因为有很多,也许有三十副,但也因为他们是散落的,一幅压着一副。玛丽莲曼森是一位非凡的艺术家,他令人惊叹的肖像画描绘的是 “恶魔在肩头”版的朋友、怪胎、混蛋和自己心爱的人:它们是那种阴暗、破损美的惊人作品。
We sit in his recording studio and listen to the record for hours. I play with the guitar he wrote Superstar on. I play with a gun. He shows me the film Shia LaBeouf directed for Born Villain's title track. Manson's been out of the scene for a while, popping up at some events here and there but generally reclusive, so I anticipated he'd keep me at a bit of a distance, enclose himself with the moats of the mind unique to hermetic eccentric brilliant avant-weirdos. But he's actually this warm and wonderful man. Maybe it's because we're kindred souls. Or maybe he's actually the gentle genius he was often described as during the worst of his scandals and lynch mob moments. I remember not wanting to leave. I remember Lily the white cat. I remember a whole shitload of IHOP food showing up. Manson showed me a book inscribed to him by Hunter S. Thompson, a gift right before the writer took his own life. "See that doll? Pick it up." It's a crash-test-dummy type of doll on the ground, wearing a blonde wig, with several non-car-crash inflicted wounds, and it's heavy as shit. "It's heavy as shit," I probably say. "I'm renting it for $150 a day," I definitely remember him telling me because it's such a uniquely and harmlessly strange extravagance. But in all honesty, I remember many incredible quotes, but naturally the ones I recall are the ones I can't (won't) repeat.
Most of all, I remember that the album is incredible. It's a dance-to-it, fvck-to-it, anthemic beast, perfect for these insurrectionary, riotous times. Manson's music has always been the ideal fight song of the enraged and suppressed, tuned perfectly to the key of generational angst, but there's maturity here. And definitely more depravity, indicative of today's prime-time sex crimes and uncensored Internet war coverage, i.e. transparency in all the wrong places (like gruesome acts of humanity) and none of the right ones. 重要的是,我记得这张专辑是不可思议的。它对这个暴动的、放荡的时代来说是完美的。曼森的音乐一直以来都是愤怒与受压制的完美战歌,完美地与一代人焦虑的核心相协调,但这里也有成熟。如今的黄金时段的性犯罪和未核实的互联网战争报道表明更加堕落了,即透明度全被用在了错误的地方(如人类的可怕行为),没有一样用在正确地方。(译者注:最后一句没太看懂)
Manson tells me he's recently been painting with tattoo ink. I ask him if he has a tat gun, and he points to it. "Let's use it," I say. "Let's start with that beard," he says, referring to my dense grizzly situation which took a lot of patience and awkward moments. I think back to his earlier correlation between grooming and death. He pulls out a razor. And then my dream of Marilyn Manson coming at me with a blade comes true. 曼森告诉我他最近在用纹身墨水画画。我问他是否有纹身枪,他指了它。“我们来用它吧。”我说。“我们从那个胡子开始吧,”他说,指的是我浓密的灰白胡子,它花了我很多耐心,让我过了很多尴尬时刻。我回想起他早些时候说的剃须与死亡的关联性。他拿出了一把利刃。然后我那个玛丽莲曼森拿着刀片向我走来的梦成真了。 作者:Elliot David 全文完