Jake Brennan

Manson's record sold millions of copies, as did his next album, Mechanical Animals, which went platinum on the strength of the monster singles Dope Show and the excellently titled I Don't Like the Drugs, But the Drugs Like Me.

Throughout the early 2000s, Manson enjoyed his celebrity, waltzing through the spotlight with beautiful high-profile girlfriends Rose McGowan and Dita Von Teese, who he briefly married before beginning a relationship with 19-year-old Evan Rachel Wood.

From there, we can start to track the downfall of Marilyn Manson, at least as it relates to the abuse that he has been accused of by Wood and others, which he denies.

And perhaps less seriously, Marilyn Manson was accused back then of not only corrupting America's youth with the music on Antichrist Superstar, but of also being a fascist and a racist due to the David Bowie-inspired fascistic imagery Manson incorporated into his live shows.

Manson is on record stating that Bowie got away with it because Bowie claimed he was playing a character.

Manson said, that's a cop-out.

The Antichrist superstar concept was not a character.

It was his art.

Yes, but it was also him.

In his autobiography, Manson wrote that, quote, when people ask, is it an act or isn't it?

Manson says, quote, it's both.

I mean, my whole life is an act, but that's my art, unquote.

Allegations of abuse, allegations that Marilyn Manson vehemently denies, allegations that did not stick, are also part of Marilyn Manson's life.

And what are we to make of them?

Were they the result of behavior that was just part of the quote-unquote act?

Or were they part of something deeper, darker, and far more disgraceful?

I'm Jake Brennan, and this is Disgraceland.

All right.

Thanks for hanging with me through some of the more gnarly parts of this most gnarly episode.

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