One day back in university, my friend Donald skipped excitedly down the hall. He was waving a piece of paper.
“He wrote back! He wrote back!” he screamed. He was bouncing.
“Calm down. What are you talking about?” I asked.
“CHARLIE WROTE ME A LETTER!” He shoved the paper in my face.
It was a handwritten note covering two sides of a single sheet of notepaper. The writing was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, angular, choppy, aggressive. The first side was reasonably legible, its subject matter dealing with weird mystical and semi-astrological things.
Flipping it over, the writing became even more agressive, making no attempt to stay in a straight line. Halfway down page two, the writing became bigger, frantic, angry.
And then I saw the signature: Charles Manson.
I dropped the letter. I felt unclean.
“What the hell is this?” I asked Donald.
“I wrote Charlie, telling him some of my theories around the Beatles’ ‘Helter Skelter’ and John Lennon’s role in Beatles mysticism. I think he liked what I had to say.”
Donald had always been a little…off when it came to his devotition to study of the Beatles. One of his big grade 12 English projects spent pages proving the Paul McCartney was, in fact, dead and that John Lennon did send coded musical messages to Manson, prompting the Tate-LaBianca killings.
We lost touch years ago. But I bring up this story because Charlie is apparently quite the letter writer. His latest missive was an open letter to Marilyn Manson. Some of the contents has leaked. I quote from Loudwire, which obtained a scan of the letter:
To Marilyn Manson –
It’s taken me a long time to get there from where I could touch M. Manson. Now I got a card to play – you may look into my non-profit, ATWA, and give Manson what you think he’s got coming for Air, Trees, Water, and you. Or I will pay Manson what you think Manson got coming – the music has make Manson into Abraxas Devil, and I’m SURE you would want some of what I got from what I got. It’s a far out balance. Beyond good and bad, right, wrong. What you don’t do is what I will do – what you did a sing-along, and let it roll and said how you saved me a lot of steps – I don’t need, it’s not a need or a want. Couped – coup. Ghost dancers slay together and you’re just in my grave Sunstroker Corona-coronas-coronae – you seen me from under with it all standing on me. That’s 2 dump trucks – doing the same as CMF 000007
Creeped out? I am. I wonder what Donald would make of this?