Monday, December 8, 2008

Fan Fiction.

Hi everybody. Tonight I have something to share with all of you, and it's called "fan fiction". I've tried to steer clear of nin my band's fans on the Internet, so I didn't know about Nine Inch Nails fan fiction, but it does actually exist. I'm as shocked as you!

You see, I stumbled across it quite accidentally. I was reading some of my favorite LJs about Twilight, when I realized that one of the LJs in question had a link to something called "Wretched Fiction". I was curious, and curiosity always gets the best of me, so I went. HUGE. MISTAKE.

The title, I assume, comes from the fact that you puke violently while reading, so you are "wretching", but could also be the fact that I have a song called "The Wretched." I prefer the former.

If you look through the page, you'll see various disgusting, vile stories involving me and my bandmembers doing nasty, disgusting, vile things to each other. Absolutely disgusting. That word cannot be used too much when referring to this "Wretched Fiction".

Let me find some examples for you.

This is from a "fanfic" called "Revenge" by helikitteh:
Sandro put one hand onto Trent's back. It felt very warm, so his hand must have felt quite cold to Trent. His other hand slowly ran over Trent's bottom, caressing it lightly. He could feel the anticipation, but decided to tease him some more, just for fun. The first quite hard spank hit Trent unexpectedly. He did not deserve any warm-ups, not now. Maybe at some other occasion. Having paused a few seconds, he went on smacking Trent's backside harder and harder, the noise and some barely suppressed whimpers were filling the room. As Alessandro's hand started to hurt after some fifteen strokes and Trent's ass being dark pink by then, he leaned over to bite Trent's neck and scratching his back hard, leaving dark red marks all over it, causing Trent to scream out loud.
Me and Alessandro? My fucking keyboardist?! And he's spanking me?!?!?! It's stories like these that make me want to just live in a cave and never ever come out.

I'd had just about enough of this "Wretched Fiction", so I quickly left that place. And then I started thinking. What if there are MORE of these out there?! More things to humiliate me! More stories that have me gagged and bound and spanked, or have me doing the gagging and binding and spanking?! So I looked further, and found I found a few stories there pertaining to me, but one of them left me shocked, near tears, wondering why my so-called "fans" would write this nasty spew about me. It's called "Lower Your Head And Take It In The Body" by Twiggysrabies. I'll post the highlights here.

There was no way he could move, even if he'd wanted to. Jeordie stood on tiptoes, his hands bound above his head, his raised arms accentuating his ribs. Trent traced the outline of Jeordie's ribcage, gently, with the tip of his coarse finger. Jeordie bit down on the gag, pulling on his restraints, "Nnngh..."

Trent grinned, "Mmm, you like that, don't you...."

Oh great. I'm just a sadistic fuck now, apparently. With Jeordie, of all people! Ew! Marilyn Manson can have him, I don't want him.

Jeordie twitched in real fear, as he felt a rope being wound around his throat. Trent had never gone this far before...and he could only feel it getting tighter. He bit down on the gag, trying to talk around it, making muffled protests. The chains were being raised again, Jeordie on his tiptoes, the rope against his throat getting tighter and tighter. Jeordie struggled fruitlessly, afraid to move his head, afraid to balance on anything less than tiptoes. He could hear Trent breathing heavily, stalking around him, his footfalls echoing on the tiled floor. Jeordie kept struggling, pulling at his bonds, trying to lift himself higher, trying to get the pressure off his throat.
Okay sure, I'm not too fond of the guy, but I don't want to hurt him!

Trent growled, wrapping his hand loosely around Jeordie's dick. He watched as Jeordie tensed, gasping painfully for air. Trent ran his hand languidly over Jeordie's cock, watching his throat work at pulling air into his lungs.

Oh god! I don't want to touch that! Who knows where that dick has been!

Jeordie screamed, the warmth of Trent's ejaculation sending him right over the edge himself. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his breath becoming more ragged. He felt his stomach doing somersaults as his hot come dripped down his legs onto the floor. He shivered, breathing heavily, "Fuck..."

Trent came around the front of Jeordie again, his pants returned to his figure. He grabbed Jeordie's chin, pulling him up, roughly. Trent leaned forward and kissed Jeordie, his tongue ravaging Jeordie's mouth, his teeth biting at Jeordie's bottom lip. Trent pulled back, grinning, "You're hot when you're covered in cum, you know that?"

Ewww...... I can't even talk about it...

So, I had already lost all faith in humanity, and especially my fans, when I found this little gem in a pastebin. And apparently it was written by my ballsack. How sweet.

The beginning of the story, and throughout most of it, isn't really all that bad, I guess, compared to the majority of the stories I had been reading. It's cute, if you dig gay man love, I guess. I don't act like that at all, though. I don't know where they are getting the idea that I am just some little wimpy emo kid. The bit about JMJ's fro bouncing made me chuckle.

But then, oh then, it takes a turn for the worst.

After JMJ finishes fucking me, which I didn't want, I vow revenge on him.

I roll over, my dead eyes staring into his. I hope he takes that as a warning and gets the fuck out soon. I get up and go to my bedroom in the bus, to find My Box. He's dead. I get back, with My Box, and he's still sitting there. Staring at me looking worried. He should be. He should've left while he had the chance. Now there's no escaping me.

Uh oh, I know that when the real me gets angry, there's nothing anybody can do, but I can't even imagine what it's like for fanfic me.

“Trent, what are you..” is all he manages to get out before I grab my new knife, brand new, never used, out of My Box. I grab him by the throat and pull him up to meet me.

I really like JMJ. He's a great bassist, and I don't want to hurt him...

“Nobody ever fucks with me like that. Nobody. Ever wonder why I go through band members so fast? And why you never hear from them again after they “quit”? Yeah. Get ready to say hi.” And then I slit his throat. And then he's dead. His blood spurting out, and running down my arm, coating his body and mine.

HOW DARE THEY!?! HOW DARE THIS PERSON SAY THIS BILE ABOUT ME!? Claiming that I kill my former bandmembers... they have NO RIGHT to say this. NO RIGHT.

Ahh yes, my body. I can't forget about my body. And it's betrayal. I drop Justin, and cut my wrists. Just for dramatic effect, really. That wont do anything to me. So I find the gun I keep also in My Box, for security reasons. But this time, all my anger is directed at me. I need to die. And I hope whoever finds me and Justin blames Canada and it's inferior bacon for this.

And then I kill myself! Wow! What a GREAT author you are! I can't believe a so-called "fan" would write something as disgusting as this. My fans are disgusting, I am disgusting for allowing this, god damn it more blood on my MacBook. I hope my fans realize that I shed this blood right here because of disgusting fan fiction like this. And then to drag my lyrics into it!

he couldn't believe how easy it was
he put the gun into his face
(so much blood from such a tiny little hole)

problems have solutions
a lifetime of fucking things up fixed in one determined flash

everything's blue
in this world
the deepest shade of mushroom blue
all fuzzy
spilling out of my head

Disgusting! That's not what The Downward Spiral is about!

My previously perfectly white MacBook is now even more terribly stained. I hope my fans realize that I BLEED because of shit like this. Stop writing fan fiction. Now.

For all of you that don't write this insanity, I thank you from the bottom of my black, violent heart.




 Hello, avid readers. I am afraid that I, Trent Reznor, have made an awful discovery. A discovery of deceit, of lies, of a tasteless charade, of a counterfeit, of a man who makes me want to bleed.

That, my good friends, is a blatant IMPOSTOR. Who is he to take my identity from me, the very parts of my soul that make me who I am, and metaphorically smash them to bits, digging them a hole, burying them deep into said hole, and pissing on the grave - what right does he have?! I'll tell you what right he has: NO RIGHT.

When I received the email notifying me of this on my iPhone, I would be a lying man if I said I didn't shed at least one tear. This breaks my heart, knowing that someone would go out and humiliate me like that! As the tears fell on my shiny, pristine iPhone's screen, I read the email, and I thought "Tront Rozboz is a dead, dead man." You hear me, "Rozboz"? You're dead! DEAD!
Not only does he actively seek out ways to humiliate me, he also is the cause of these waterspots on my iPhone. Waterspots... well, let it be known that when said spots come from the black tears of Trent Reznor... the spots DON'T COME OFF.
And you thought it couldn't get worse? My warranty expired YESTERDAY.

But back to "Rozboz". Scoff. I scoff at his stupid, immature attempt at humor. First of all, he makes fun of the friendship Steve Jobs and I have. That is so not cool. Can you believe that this imbicile has 32 followers?! THIRTY-FUCKING-TWO. Sixteen times fucking two. 32 people BELIEVE his impostory. Is impostory even a word? Fuck it. Fuck it all. I hate this man. Taking my name, distorting it in the stupidest way possible, and then acquiring "fans"! Oh, his adoring FANS! "Oooh tront i luv u!!!! <33333" is probably not far from being an exact quote from one of those digusting bottom-feeders. Leeches. All of them, leeches. I hate Rozboz. I hate that man.

. This man makes me bleed. When one only knows how to hate.... we bleed. This... this pointed blade, so beautiful, shining in the glow of my MacBook's screen... I shouldn't... I really shouldn't.

Just when I thought I didn't have enough bloodstains on my MacBook already, well... there's more. Here they are. For all the world to see. I hope the world sees, sees just how much Tront fucking Rozboz makes me BLEED. This once beautiful MacBook, now stained forever by my torment, and by the blood Tront Rozboz has make me spill. Tront Rozboz is now forever staining my MacBook. Fuck it. I should just go slit his fucking throat, drink his blood and stain my MacBook further. Victory stains. Victory blood.
But no. All I have right here is my stained MacBook, my two expired Apple warranties, my knife, and my body.

red is such a beautiful color...



Sunday, December 7, 2008

This is the beginning of the end.


This is my new blog. I am Trent Reznor, nice to meet you. I guess this is where I will be updating you on my life, love, loofahs, and everything in between. Honestly, I don't think I have to say much of anything to introduce myself, everybody already knows who I am.

So I guess I'll just jump right in and start. It's quite early in the morning, and I have a show tonight, and honestly I don't know why I am awake. We're in Portland, OR.

There has been so much chaos lately about my recent "curtain call" post on the front page of Let me explain: I am taking a break. From touring. I am not quitting. As much as I might secretly love to just stop, these poor old bones can't take it anymore, I'm not going to. And all I said was that, at the end of the announced 2009 dates, that will be the last NIN show of this scale. I mean, really. I didn't say "Screw you guys, I'm leaving!" I just said that these shows will be the last of their kind. This costs a lot of money, you know?! And it takes a serious toll on my mental health now that I have to do all of this planning and everything on my own. But it's worth it, I think.

It really makes me so sad that everybody thinks I was just going to leave them high and dry and just quit. I mean, I love what I do. I have music constantly pumping through my veins, I can't just stop, no matter how hard I try. I just really wish that my fans would realize this. :'( I love you all, and I will never disappoint you. Oh, and sorry about that DVD thing. Blame Interscope. But I'm very excited about the fan DVD that might be happening, very awesome. My fans are so great!

I just wish that I was worthy of such admiration...

Well, that's all for now, my iPhone needs charging. I'll be sure to update soon!