Lies dir bitte mal den sechsten Absatz durch:
http://www.copyriot.com/diskus/3_00/1.htmWie fügt sich Blood Axis damit in deine "Lebenseinstellung", wie du sagst? Das Zitat dort (sofern korrekt wiedergegeben) ist wahnsinnig schwer positiv zu deuten, für mich zumindest. (Das die Aufzählung von Feindflug oder RD dort sehr unpassend ist und dort diverser anderer Schwachsinn geschrieben wird, brauchst du mir nicht sagen.)
Hi,
Michael Moynihan hat mal in einem us- wochenmagazin "Williamette Weekly" versucht diese und andere Aussagen zu erklären (die über 10 Jahre alt dazu sind)... vielleicht passt das so eher mit "Lebenseinstellung"
Gruß, Dominik
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ACTIVISTS ACCUSE PORTLAND WRITER AND MUSICIAN MICHAEL MOYNIHAN OF
SPREADING EXTREMIST PROPAGANDA, BUT THEY'RE NOT TELLING THE WHOLE STORY.
BY ZACH DUNDAS
zdundas@wweek.comThe Northwest Coalition for Human Dignity is the product of a merger
between the Northwest Coalition Against Malicious Harassment and the
Coalition for Human Dignity. The latter group was founded
in Portland in the late '80s.
Apocalypse Culture II has received advance praise from Portland rock
journalist and poet Richard Meltzer, National Public
Radio's Andrei Codrescu and Marilyn Manson, among others.
Moynihan says he is not a member of any national Asatru group, though he
works with a small "Asatru-oriented" arts collective.
Blood Axis' Blot: Sacrifice in Sweden, is available at Ozone and other
local record stores, and from the label Cold Meat Industry:
www.coldmeat.se Lords of Chaos won a 1998 Firecracker Alternative Press Award for music
writing. Other Firecracker honorees include leftist historian Howard
Zinn and Zapatista leader Subcommandante Marcos. Moynihan and Søderlind
are preparing a German edition.
"I feel perfectly comfortable selling Blood Axis," says Janelle Janosz,
owner of Ozone Records. Janosz doesn't carry bands such as infamous
English Nazi boneheads Skrewdriver. "I've never seen any reason not to
carry his band."
Last fall, the Southern Poverty Law Center, the national anti-racist
organization, published a list of six men it claimed to be the leaders
of a new generation of American hatemongers.
There's Jimmy Miller, a skinhead imprisoned for bombings in Arizona;
Alex Curtis, a San Diegan convicted of harassing inter-racial couples,
now publisher of a white-supremacist newspaper; Matt Hale, once arrested
for threatening three black men with a gun and now pimp for the virulent
World Church of the Creator; Bruce Breeding, crony of David Duke and
member of the far-right National Alliance; and Erich Gliebe, a National
Alliance organizer.
And then there's Portland's Michael Moynihan, a 31-year-old author and
musician, whom the SPLC describes as "a major purveyor of neo-Nazism,
occult fascism and international industrial and black metal music."
Two Sundays ago, as a gorgeous summer evening faded to black, Moynihan
reclined on the back patio of the Moon & Sixpence, an English-style pub
just off Sandy Boulevard. He sipped a Guinness and considered the notion
that he is one of the most dangerous men in America.
"These guys have no idea where to even begin," he says. "They're out of
their league. If they would check with me in the course of their
research, it would be much more difficult to spread these lies."
Especially since last May, when neo-Nazism was initially (and
incorrectly) supposed to have sparked the massacre at Columbine High
School, Moynihan has become a favorite bête noire of anti-racist
activists. On May 13, 1999, an Oregonian guest editorial by Robert
Crawford, a member of the Northwest Coalition for Human Dignity,
declared, "we believe that the Portland leader of a metal band, Blood
Axis, and head of Storm Publications, is a big player in the effort to
bring racism into the metal scene locally." Joe Conason, writing in
Salon, alleged that music and writing like Moynihan's drives "dangers
lurking in dark, Nazi-worshiping corners of alienated youth culture."
A booklet called Soundtracks to the White Revolution, published in
November by the Seattle-based Northwest Coalition, accused Moynihan of
spreading racism through his music and writing, particularly his 1998
book Lords of Chaos, an examination of Norway's violent "black metal"
underground that was praised by numerous reviewers. (The book won a
prestigious alternative-press award and sold more than 20,000 copies.)
Why do activists lump an author and musician together with convicted
felons and active right-wing organizers?
"Moynihan's inclusion on that list is more emblematic of a different
section of the far right than an attempt to suggest that he's the leader
of any group," says Mark Potok, the editor of the SPLC's Intelligence
Report. "He's an intellectual leader."
The drumbeat may get louder. This month, Feral House, publisher of Lords
of Chaos, released Apocalypse Culture II, an anthology of extreme
writing and art certain to be one of the most jarring books published in
America this year. In its percolating stew of strangeness, ACII contains
oddball actor Crispin Glover's denunciation of Steven Spielberg ("Would
the culture benefit from Steven Spielberg's murder?"), a short story by
Ted Kaczynski and an essay by one S. Epps, explaining why white people
are genetically inferior to black people.
Moynihan helps translate some Italian terrorist manifestos and an essay
by Finnish ecologist Pentii Linkola, who believes that only the
dismantling of modern society can save the Earth. Moynihan also profiles
the efforts of onetime Charles Manson associate and convicted murderer
Bobby Beausoleil to adapt his formidable sexual appetite to prison life.
If Apocalypse Culture II crosses activists' desks, such strangeness may
join other evidence they cite in their case against Moynihan:
Exhibit A: Quotes in obscure fanzines, like one from No Longer a
Fanzine, circa '94: "The number of six million [Jews killed in the
Holocaust] is just arbitrary and inaccurate.... If I were given the
opportunity to start up the next Holocaust, I would definitely have more
lenient entry requirements than the Nazis."
Exhibit B: Interest in Asatru, a revival of Norse pagan spirituality.
Some forms of Asatru are championed by white supremacists, although many
elements within the movement vigorously oppose such efforts. Moynihan
also writes for The Black Flame, the Church of Satan's magazine, and
interviewed late COS founder Anton LaVey twice.
Exhibit C: Blood Axis, his band, well-regarded within a small
experimental scene in which a fascination with the forbidden is
practically de rigueur. Blood Axis rarely books clubs in the US, but has
toured extensively in Europe. Despite what some think, Blood Axis is
definitely not a heavy metal band. Dark portents of classical, folk,
electronic and experimental music swirl through band's sound. Blot:
Sacrifice in Sweden, the most recent of the group's two albums, runs hot
with images of sacrifice, pagan gods, revolution and arcane ritual, but
contains no racist lyrics. Still, the band's use of such controversial
material, not to mention the Kruekenkreuz, an ancient cross adopted by
some Christian Crusaders and Austrian nationalists (but banned by the
Nazis), sparks leftist ire. Protests spurred by socialist groups forced
the cancellation of Blood Axis shows in Seattle and San Francisco in
1998.
Exhibit D: Moynihan's small hobby-level publishing company and record
label, Storm, carries such "rare and heretical" items as folk recordings
by Charles Manson (Manson and Moynihan had frequent phone conversations
for a time, which later served as the basis for an article by Moynihan)
and Siege, an anthology of rants by James Mason, an ex-Nazi and
Mansonite. Siege has been out of print for five years, and Moynihan says
he hasn't printed a Storm catalogue in about as long.
Exhibit E: Lords of Chaos, which Moynihan co-authored with Norwegian
journalist Didrik Søderlind. Though many praised the book's exploration
of a grim variant of heavy metal that won popularity among some
Norwegian kids, Moynihan's activist critics slam the book's account of
murders and arsons and the racism espoused by some of the scene's
principals. Some call the book a work of veiled propaganda.
[FOTO]
Members of Blood Axis, with Moynihan at center, in Budapest, Hungary.
Surveying this jihad against him, Moynihan is frankly dismissive. "They
don't understand the first thing about what I'm saying or doing," he
says. "They're convinced that if society was run according to their
views, everybody would be happy. I don't think it's that simple."
That Moynihan has some unusual ideas and interests is clear. However, a
deeper look into his strange case creates serious doubts about
allegations that he's a fascist bent on twisting underground culture to
his will. If you actually talk to him, you, too, might start thinking
that it's not that simple.
No one from the Coalition or SPLC has spoken with Moynihan. If they did,
they would find him an engaging and tireless talker who waxes decidedly
pessimistic on the direction of modern society, but also exhibits a
certain sardonic humor, especially as far as his notoriety is concerned.
He christened his other band, a dark-edged folk
group, Witch Hunt; he adorns an envelope full of recordings with
sprightly "TEACH TOLERANCE" stickers. He recently told the venerable
punk magazine Flipside that his membership in the "National Polite
People's Party" precludes any sympathy with Nazis.
He moved to Portland in 1995 and now shares a house in Northeast with
his girlfriend, Blood Axis violinist Annabel Lee, and their two dogs. He
has a distinct fondness for good beer and also sings the praises of
absinthe, which some friends of his distill. He describes his circle as
a diverse crew of artists, writers and musicians, mostly united by their
determination to stand against conventional thought.
"I know all kinds of strange people," he says. "I've always hung out
with people who are real outsiders or heretics."
A pair of local events illustrate the wide swathe Moynihan and friends
cut through Portland's (for lack of a better term) "alternative"
subcultures. At the end of July, Witch Hunt played a kind of New Age
teach-in at Pioneer Courthouse Square organized by Jose Arguelles, a
local writer who believes he's decoded the ancient 13-month lunar
calendar of the Mayans. Last week, Moynihan and Lee both played in an
eclectic performance-art cabaret at Berbati's Pan, joining in on a Gypsy
burlesque song popularized by Marlene Dietrich.
The Boston native has been involved in underground music and culture
since he was a teen-ager. Trading hardcore punk for the more
transgressive aesthetics of early industrial music, he played for a time
with genre pioneers Sleep Chamber. He moved to Belgium in the late '80s,
hanging out with avant-garde artists and squatting in a factory. After
returning to the US, he roomed and collaborated with notorious musician/
provocateur Boyd Rice--who actually has called himself a fascist--in
Denver before moving to Portland in 1995, in part to work with Feral
House. (The publisher has moved to LA; Moynihan has long since stopped
working with Rice.)
There is no doubt that, as an artist and thinker, Moynihan is radical.
For starters, he rejects the idea that society is
evolving into progressively more enlightened forms.
"That's where I part ways with all these political people," he says,
"whether they're the Marxist/ Communist/Socialist people who think that
humans want to get along on a grand scale, or whether it's the Nazis,
who think that if everyone was just of the same race, they'd all get
along perfectly, or the anarchists, who think everyone would love to
live this way if you just took away the police.
"They're all deluded. People should worry about what happens on their
block. They should get along with their neighbors before they worry
about the great ills of society and about telling someone who lives 200
miles away what to do."
He describes conventional politics as a parlor game played out to
19th-century rules while consumerism paves the planet and wipes out
unique cultures. He says he never votes. He says vast nation-states are
a ridiculous way to organize society, and that a tribal mosaic of small,
tightly bonded groups would better suit a human nature he views as
largely unchanged from ancient times.
"The only realistic way I would want to deal with society is on some
sort of small level of people who have something in common, who look out
for each other," he says.
[!] [!]
Asked point-blank, Moynihan says he's not a neo-Nazi. He also bashes
white supremacy and fascism.
"I don't see white people doing anything particularly noble these days,
so why on earth would I be a white
supremacist?" he says. "What does fascism have to do with anything
that's going on? The far right is a bunch of isolated losers. I probably
have far more in common with anarchists than I would with any right-wing
person, and they would probably agree."
People who have encountered Moynihan in Portland's independent music and
publishing scenes have reached a
rather different conclusion about him than the watchdog groups like the
SPLC.
"My most basic impression is that he thinks some people are better than
others and the people who are better should not have to live according
to the lowest common denominator," says Chloe Eudaly, owner of Reading
Frenzy, the downtown 'zine emporium that hosted a standing-room-only
reading by Moynihan shortly after Lords of Chaos came out. Eudaly says
she's known Moynihan for about four years. "I wouldn't call that
fascist, I would call it elitist. I think that many people share the
same belief and act it out on a daily basis but would never recognize it
in themselves."
"Mike has been a very good friend," says Sean Tejaratchi, the Portland
graphic artist who designed Lords of Chaos in close collaboration with
Moynihan. Tejaratchi is also the half-Iranian adopted son of a Jewish
family. "He's gone out of his way to help me. If he turns out to be a
high commander of the evil racist forces, then hoo boy! There's going to
be egg on my face! I choose to give more weight to my own experiences
and observations than to people who tell me that a good friend of mine
is a force of ultimate darkness."
Some academics and journalists who've done extensive work on radical
politics and religion also feel that damnations of Moynihan may be
off-base.
[!] [!]
"Based on my work with the subject of the far right, and my dealings
with Michael Moynihan, none of these labels would constitute a fair
characterization," says Dr. Jeffrey Kaplan, an American cultural
historian currently associated with the University of Helsinki in
Finland. Kaplan wrote Radical Religion in America, a well-regarded 1997
investigation of fringe religions, including Asatru and the extreme
racism of Christian Identity. Kaplan says he made Moynihan's
acquaintance while working on the book's section on Asatru. He also says
he called some of the several errors of fact in the SPLC's bio of
Moynihan to the attention of Intelligence Report editor Potok.
[!] [!]
James Ridgeway, a Village Voice reporter who has covered extremist
politics for years and wrote Blood in the Face, a 1991 study of the far
right, praises Lords of Chaos as a useful reference work. As for the
SPLC's list, he says, "I don't know what the shit that was about."
Moynihan has said some things that, at first glance at least, are pretty
outrageous. There's his suggestion that a new Holocaust under his
direction might be more freeform than the Third Reich's, for example.
"That's the big one," he says. "A lot of these attacks stem from that
one quote, basically."
[!] [!]
A close reading of the quote reveals it to be general misanthropy rather
than specific bigotry. Last fall, Moynihan told Eye that he is not a
Holocaust revisionist. More crucially, he notes that the quote has been
lifted from its original place in an underground subculture, where all
brands of radicalism are bandied about, and held up as a serious
political statement.
"This is in response to a question from a snotty 15-year-old punk
rocker, and that's the spirit in which it was answered with this sort of
incendiary statement," he says. "I'm not calling for singling out any
one group for this sort of treatment, because I've never made such a
comment about anyone, ever."
As the old pulp-fiction cliché goes, no one knows what evil lurks in the
hearts of men. But insofar as it can be said of anyone, it can be said
that Moynihan's not a neo-Nazi. And the idea that he's an agent (or
organizer) of a nebulous far-right conspiracy looks a little shaky.
The research presented by his critics is mostly based on quotes in old
fanzines and outfield websites, and is thus built on quicksand. Even as
such, it neglects most of the voluminous material by and about Moynihan
that's been
printed in 'zines, newspapers and journals. While the activists argue
that they're just presenting their side of the story, there's no
question that their slickly printed reports, widely distributed to
journalists and law enforcement, have a rather unbalanced impact. In the
wake of Soundtracks, for example, Moynihan's name figured in a number of
newspaper articles that did not include any comment from him.
"Once you get stuck with that Nazi tag, it never comes off," Moynihan
says. "Putting an editorial like that in The Oregonian, filled with
misrepresentations, has serious implications for someone who has to live
and work in Portland. People lose their jobs over that sort of thing."
Moynihan does take America's traditional fascination with the strange to
a deeper level of inquiry. You could trace this national tendency back
at least as far as Edgar Allen Poe, and detect it, in debased form, in
the serial-killer T-shirts sported by suburban metalheads. His writing
examines people far beyond the borders of the mainstream. Blood Axis'
allusions to a pagan past and its use of Nordic, Germanic and Celtic
elements definitely contrast with both bubble-gum pop and
sword-and-sorcery metal.
"I make no apology about my interest in European culture," Moynihan
says. "Europe is my spiritual homeland. I'll leave to other people to
research Native American culture, or Far Eastern culture, or whatever. I
encourage everyone to find out as much as they can about their
heritage."
Those who criticize him on political grounds, he says, really lose him.
"These people are worried about some skinhead takeover?" he says. "It's
not like the average black person in America, or someone in Thailand or
Tibet, is really threatened by skinheads. What they're threatened by is
a global corporate monoculture that's really going to divest them of
power and destroy their culture. Not to sound like some progressive type
or anything, but I actually do support the idea of a diversity of human
groups surviving on earth. Different cultural traditions make the world
interesting. In the United States, you have homogenous consumerism.
Everyone buys the same clothes at the mall no matter what their heritage
is. That's a far more immediate threat to racial justice or identity
than anything emanating from neo-Nazis."
Certainly, a serious consideration of Moynihan takes you into rocky
terrain, where many of the assumptions of mainstream politics and
culture are either irrelevant or under assault.
At the same time, who hasn't looked at the plastic sprawl of current pop
culture and wished for something a little more intense, intimate and
immediate? Who hasn't spent at least a few moments considering some of
the darker corners of human experience? Who hasn't said things or
entertained notions that could offend? Aren't artists, under a cultural
mandate as old as the West, supposed to rub salt into society's wounds?
There's no doubt that some aspects of Moynihan's work are hard to
swallow. However, those who've attacked him in the name of democracy and
tolerance have failed to present a clear picture of that work or its
creator.
For his part, Moynihan says he has little choice but to add new
complications.
"I think people have to do what their impulses and character propel them
to," he says. "I couldn't imagine sitting behind a computer in a
corporate office. If my work doesn't meet with approval, there's nothing
I can do about it. I try to interact with people who I like, and who I
respect, and who are stimulating, where there's a mutual respect. That's
what makes life meaningful."