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March 2001
Download the word version, perfect for printing and handing out on street corners!
Slaytanic Slaughter!!!
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Ash
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Well, the bizarre American pastime of shirking responsibility has
struck
again, and this time it's a little too close to home for my tastes. Up here
in the fifty-first state, we at least have the decency to accept
responsibility for our own mistakes, or at least blame something concrete
like Stockwell Day or the French, but the Americans have this airy-fairy
habit of blaming the media for everything they're ashamed of. It didn't
bother me so much when they were blaming things like Columbine and low test
scores on Marilyn Manson, because as thrilling as it is to watch the
re-animated corpse of Elton John sing crappy industrial rock, any glimmer of
hope that he might eventually be banned from record stores and drift into
Corey Feldman-esque obscurity makes my insides glow, but now they've gone
too far. The news item that has me so incensed this month is a lawsuit
currently going to trial against one of the greatest rock 'n' roll bands of
all time, Slayer. For those of you unfamiliar with this group, allow me to
set the stage for their introduction. Slayer formed in Southern California
during the early 80s as a reaction to the growing glam rock scene in the
area. They took their name from the 1981 fantasy film Dragonslayer, which
aside from being an incredibly fruity film, also stars Peter McNichol, whom
the 18-25 female demographic will recognize instantly as the stuttering
dweeb from Ally McBeal. Despite this setback, as well as an early propensity
for wearing makeup, the band managed to accrue a rabid fan base and a record
deal. To understand their music, one must first understand what each member
of the group brought to the band, and how this helped shape their image.
Guitarists Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King brought virtuoso fret-work and
interests in Nazis and Satan, respectively. Tom Araya brought solid
basslines, a fascination with serial killers, and raspy yet powerful vocals,
and Paul Lombardo brought drums. So what you end up with is album after
album of heavy rock music about Satanic Nazi serial killers, with drums, and
fans who enjoy the same. Now, the lawsuit in question has been filed by the
parents of three teenage boys who, aside from being drug abusing, thieving
delinquents, also killed and raped a 15 year-old girl, in that order, in an
attempt to please Satan. The parents of the accused, as well as the accused
themselves, blame Slayer and their music for inspiring the murders, while
the drug abuse and thievery being someone else's fault, I suppose, possibly
Marilyn Manson. Since Slayer are incapable of defending themselves (their
only response to the allegation of inspiring the sacrifice being 'they
didn't even do it right'), I've taken it upon myself to do it for them.
While I do agree that the media can influence impressionable teens to some
degree, I have certain reservations about it making someone, let alone 3
someones, sacrifice anybody to Satan. I don't know about you, but I rarely
listen to what my best friends tell me to do, let alone 4 alcoholic
musicians with Stone Cold Steve Austin T-shirts. Slayer didn't make them
kill anybody, the fact that they're gas-huffing lunatics did. If merely
watching horror movies and listening to scary music was all it took to push
someone over the edge, as some activists claim, by rights I should've killed
at least three young girls by now, instead of just a half-dozen cats and
that Asian baby I found behind the supermarket. Plus, the fact that these
kids thought that a Satanic sacrifice would bring them riches, wealth, and
social security shows them to be either severely unhinged or just really,
really dim. These kids were obviously crazy to begin with. They were going
to crack eventually, and if it wasn't Slayer's music that pushed them over
the edge, it would've been a particularly dark episode of Sabrina Goes To
College, or even that damn Mazda commercial with the zoom zoom kid that just
makes me so mad I want to slash someone's eyeballs out to spare them the
agony of looking at his squinty little face. The cliched thing to do here
would be to blame the parents, but that's still shifting the blame from
where it belongs. Take me for example. I had damn good parents who were
fair, intelligent and supportive, and look how I turned out. Typing
feverishly in an underground apartment with a loop of Zombie Holocaust
playing endlessly in the background. Sure, I may have spent the rent money
on cheerleader porn, but are my parents to blame for raising me to have a
uniform fetish? No, obviously not. It's clearly Terror Comes To Tiny Town's
fault, an obscure movie featuring an all-midget cast that so disillusioned
me that I forever cast God from my life and embraced pagan idolatry and
deviant pornography. So, logically, it isn't Slayer, the media, the parents,
or the kids' fault, but in fact Terror Comes To Tiny Town, and to a lesser
extent that weird backwards-talking midget from the Twin Peaks pilot. I'm
not saying that the killers enjoyed or even saw Tiny Town, but its mere
existence proves that there is no God, and once such a profound revelation
enters the collective unconsciousness, the group mind becomes poisoned, and
incidents like this murder can only be expected. What can be done about
this? Nothing, since the movie's already been made and is now available on
DVD. Hell has come to Frogtown, ladies and gentlemen, and there's not much
to do about it but sit back and enjoy the ride.
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