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pookel
Oct 27, 2011

Ultra Carp
So, if all they did was hang around and be "evil," and they rarely played shows or recorded anything, how did they have enough money to live on? Were they funded by someone's parents, or were they living off welfare, or ..?

Edit: Is that letter for real? It reads like a terrible parody. "We are totally into METAL. NO OTHER poo poo! It's so many posers who are into rapping and disco and stinky poo poo like that. And we don't!!"
...
"I'm happy that you liked the smell of Mayhems sacrifice, but the innocent creature was mean to a sandwich."

pookel has a new favorite as of 15:33 on Aug 18, 2016

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KozmoNaut
Apr 23, 2008

Happiness is a warm
Turbo Plasma Rifle


Yeah, pretty much mooching off their parents, and/or on welfare. It's enough to live on, but not much beyond that.

And yes, that letter is 100% authentic. I guess you're beginning to see how ridiculous the whole thing is.

Detective Thompson
Nov 9, 2007

Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. is also in repose.
I like black metal but I don't think I could ever hang out with anyone that really likes black metal. It also seems like the branch of metal that has the highest chance of having neo-Nazis in it, so it's something you have to be careful about when checking bands out if you don't want to support those types of people. I usually try to stick with the ones that sing(scream) about trees and stuff like that.

WickedHate
Aug 1, 2013

by Lowtax
If I had an ouija board I'd chill with Dead's spirit, he seems like an okay guy. Just really pitiable, honestly. gently caress Euronymous, he'd haunt the poo poo out of you just because he felt like that's what he should do, and he wouldn't even really enjoy it.

Detective Thompson posted:

I like black metal but I don't think I could ever hang out with anyone that really likes black metal. It also seems like the branch of metal that has the highest chance of having neo-Nazis in it, so it's something you have to be careful about when checking bands out if you don't want to support those types of people. I usually try to stick with the ones that sing(scream) about trees and stuff like that.

Try Nile.

KozmoNaut
Apr 23, 2008

Happiness is a warm
Turbo Plasma Rifle


Dead sounds like he was a teenager with some issues he needed to talk to someone about, but he ended up with the wrong crowd.


Nile are more towards brutal/technical death metal, though.

WickedHate
Aug 1, 2013

by Lowtax

KozmoNaut posted:

Nile are more towards brutal/technical death metal, though.

It all sounds the exact same to me.

Zodijackylite
Oct 18, 2005

hello bonjour, en francais we call the bread man l'homme de pain, because pain means bread and we're going to see a lot of pain this year and every nyrfan is looking forward to it and hey tony, can you wait until after my postgame interview to get on your phone? i thought you quit twitter...

pookel posted:

So, if all they did was hang around and be "evil," and they rarely played shows or recorded anything, how did they have enough money to live on? Were they funded by someone's parents, or were they living off welfare, or ..?

Most of them had jobs, they just add little of interest to the story. They rehearsed a lot, and wrote letters/traded tapes, building the foundation for what they'd do. They managed to sell 1000 copies of the LP they recorded in '87, and Euronymous started a record label in '90 and opened a record store in '91. They recorded an album in '92-'93, but it wasn't released until 1994 due to ensuing mayhem.

pookel posted:

Edit: Is that letter for real? It reads like a terrible parody.

I don't know, I just found it last night while trying to find a secondary source about the mouse story. It didn't come from a reliable source, but seemed plausible enough.

Zodijackylite
Oct 18, 2005

hello bonjour, en francais we call the bread man l'homme de pain, because pain means bread and we're going to see a lot of pain this year and every nyrfan is looking forward to it and hey tony, can you wait until after my postgame interview to get on your phone? i thought you quit twitter...

WickedHate posted:

I just spent a lot of time looking stuff up about this and yeah, Euronymous was a huge prick who only cared about image. Cliche as poo poo too. "I just want to spread EVIL, I worship EVIL, misery and pain is good for it furthers the causes of EVIL!" How the hell could he think this was fooling anyone?

It probably had something to do with the murders and suicides, the church burnings, and looting his friend's corpse for souveniers. There's a link embedded in there to an interview with a man whose alias is "Evil" where he confirms that he still has pieces of Dead's brain, skull, and some pieces of lead.

WickedHate posted:

This is the most black metal name ever. What a bunch of edgelords.

Death metal. Don't make the mistake their label did. THEY ARE DEATH.... FUKK YOU (that's the title of their second album)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEI1XOd2jV0

Flopstick
Jul 10, 2011

Top Cop

Zodijackylite posted:

Dead was mentally ill. He suffered from the Cotard delusion (that's an unnerving Wikipedia article on its own), believing that he had died as a child in a tragic accident, which he actually survived.

Is there any actual medical or psychiatric evidence for this? Google seems to suggest he was posthumously diagnosed with it by a rock journalist. I don't recall ever hearing anything that suggested he was actively delusional.

WickedHate
Aug 1, 2013

by Lowtax

Flopstick posted:

Is there any actual medical or psychiatric evidence for this? Google seems to suggest he was posthumously diagnosed with it by a rock journalist. I don't recall ever hearing anything that suggested he was actively delusional.

My friend has this and it's incredibly interesting to me that it's like, "a thing". I never heard of it outside of them before.

Zodijackylite posted:

It probably had something to do with the murders and suicides, the church burnings, and looting his friend's corpse for souveniers. There's a link embedded in there to an interview with a man whose alias is "Evil" where he confirms that he still has pieces of Dead's brain, skull, and some pieces of lead.

The only thing Euro is confirmed to have did of those is the corpse looting, and that's not so much "evil" as it is "dickish and utterly detatched from reality". Dude just didn't give a poo poo about his poor dead friend. I think he felt like it was the perfect time to emphasis what a cool edgy dude he was, basic decency be damned. He was apparently putting on an act 24/7 and desperate to get his image out there. Major insecurity.

His death feels...not deserved, exactly, but fitting somehow. Like the ultimate ironic culmination of everything he did.

Zodijackylite
Oct 18, 2005

hello bonjour, en francais we call the bread man l'homme de pain, because pain means bread and we're going to see a lot of pain this year and every nyrfan is looking forward to it and hey tony, can you wait until after my postgame interview to get on your phone? i thought you quit twitter...

Flopstick posted:

Is there any actual medical or psychiatric evidence for this? Google seems to suggest he was posthumously diagnosed with it by a rock journalist. I don't recall ever hearing anything that suggested he was actively delusional.

For some reason, I don't think he was seeing a psychologist. Call it a hunch. That's there for the sake of linking a weird wikipedia article in the thread about them.

KozmoNaut
Apr 23, 2008

Happiness is a warm
Turbo Plasma Rifle


WickedHate posted:

It all sounds the exact same to me.

Nah, black metal is mostly about blurring the guitar notes using tremolo picking, into a continuous stream of sound, vocals with tons of echo and revers to sound spooky and generally a lot blast beat drumming. That covers most old-school BM, then you have later atmospheric BM acts that slow down to a mid-tempo and use keyboard and stuff. But for all BM, the important part is to build an atmosphere of sadness, dark and despair. The vocals are generally wailed or screamed, or in some cases (bands like Inquisition) croaked to sound as demon-like as possible.

Brutal death is more sort of vanilla death metal's meaner big brother. Heavier and often palm-muted riffs, more guttural vocals, that sort of thing.

Technical death metal focuses on technicality (big surprise!) and is sort of the prog rock of death metal (but it's not progressive death metal, that's a different genre). Plenty of complicated guitar riffs (string-skipping is very commonly used), odd tempos and tempo changes, generally just rather advanced and hard-to-play stuff. It's also generally played really fast, for added complexity.

I know most of the things I mention probably sound like irrelevant differences, but they are actually very different genres, metal is complicated like that :) At the moment, I have 16 different genres just for metal in my collection, and I could probably split it out to at least twice that.

purple death ray
Jul 28, 2007

me omw 2 steal ur girl

Pointless, nitpicking genre distinctions are extremely unnerving reading, I agree, but you should source your quotes

KozmoNaut
Apr 23, 2008

Happiness is a warm
Turbo Plasma Rifle


http://rateyourmusic.com/rgenre/

E: Whatever.

Basticle
Sep 12, 2011


Deadspin linked this today. The Life and Murder of Stella Walsh, Intersex Olympic Champion. Really good long form article.


quote:

Gerber, ever the politician, hadn’t addressed the misperception (which prevails to this day) that sex is a binary: male or female, nothing else. He left that task to his deputy, Dr. Lester Adelson, who had a reputation as a brilliant thinker, fluent in aphorisms. Adelson explained that the question of Walsh’s sex was “not black or white.” She wasn’t either a man or a woman, but bits of both. “Nature is infinite in her manifestations,” he said eloquently.

Bulgaroctonus
Dec 31, 2008


Hey, just FYI PRI/Texas Public Radio just had a really good special on the UT tower shooting. I know it was many pages ago, but it makes a good companion to that Tx Monthly long form article. Thankfully it's mainly an oral history, don't let the first couple minutes turn you off (it's kinda cheesy faux-this American life), but it gets drat good.

Avshalom
Feb 14, 2012

by Lowtax
when i shoot myself i've stipulated in my will that my entire body be sent to lowtax along with a set of wheels and some helicopter blades in case he gets inspired

pookel
Oct 27, 2011

Ultra Carp

WickedHate posted:

My friend has this and it's incredibly interesting to me that it's like, "a thing". I never heard of it outside of them before.

Your friend has the Cotard delusion? Have you noticed what thread we're in? Come on, details.

Automatic Retard
Oct 21, 2010

PUT THIS WANKSTAIN ON IGNORE
My friend has the Retard Delusion.
The delusion is that it's a delusion.
It's not a delusion.

Avshalom
Feb 14, 2012

by Lowtax
when i was a teenager i used to think i was legitimately mentally disabled and everybody around me was coached to treat me like a reasonably intelligent person and i received falsified high marks at school as some sort of elaborate social experiment

WickedHate
Aug 1, 2013

by Lowtax

pookel posted:

Your friend has the Cotard delusion? Have you noticed what thread we're in? Come on, details.

It's not really an interesting tale. They believe themselves to have already died and that's basically that. It's somewhat related to their spiritual beliefs and don't think their decomposing or anything, but they do see themselves as a kind of undead.

I also dated someone who believed they were literally immortal and none of the self destructive acts they did would ever kill them. So far they're still alive, so maybe their on to something.

Nuebot
Feb 18, 2013

The developer of Brigador is a secret chud, don't give him money

Avshalom posted:

when i was a teenager i used to think i was legitimately mentally disabled and everybody around me was coached to treat me like a reasonably intelligent person and i received falsified high marks at school as some sort of elaborate social experiment

Did you stop thinking this because someone told you the truth?

Avshalom
Feb 14, 2012

by Lowtax

Nuebot posted:

Did you stop thinking this because someone told you the truth?
i realised all teenagers are legitimately mentally disabled and everybody around them is coached to treat them like intelligent people

I AM GRANDO
Aug 20, 2006

Avshalom posted:

i realised all teenagers are legitimately mentally disabled and everybody around them is coached to treat them like intelligent people

I feel like it's pretty common for teenagers to go through a kind of solipsistic fantasy phase like this involving some kind of conspiracy. I think I thought I was being spied on when I was like 12.

Shady Amish Terror
Oct 11, 2007
I'm not Amish by choice. 8(
The brain simply isn't done(ish) developing until, generally, sometime in one's twenties, and the hormonal changes lead to the hilarity of adolescence we all know and abhor. Common well-studied teenager delusions include perceived invulnerability and persecution complexes/paranoia; virtually everyone experiences those two to some degree. So, yes, basically.

BOOTY-ADE
Aug 30, 2006

BIG KOOL TELLIN' Y'ALL TO KEEP IT TIGHT
Stuff like that is even more fun when you've got anxiety or ADHD on top of all the hormonal changes, I dealt with a bit of that growing up with family members who didn't know how to handle a kid with ADHD. To top it off my grandma on my mom's side hated my biological dad for being an alcoholic scumbag, and when I was born she hated me by association and I got the brunt of her bullshit for years growing up. I never took any prescriptions for it and eventually sort of "grew out" of the symptoms but still deal with anxiety sometimes, and spent some time in therapy coming to terms with everything because I was constantly treated like I was stupid or acting out for attention. Wasn't until my mom called grandma on her bullshit and threatened to stop bringing her kids around that she finally stopped treating me differently, but by then I was already 13-14 and had been dealing with her poo poo for half my life.

pienipple
Mar 20, 2009

That's wrong!

WickedHate posted:

It's not really an interesting tale. They believe themselves to have already died and that's basically that. It's somewhat related to their spiritual beliefs and don't think their decomposing or anything, but they do see themselves as a kind of undead.

Yeah, I also have the persistent feeling I don't exist/am not a real person but it's honestly not that interesting. It just kinda sucks and I can get obsessed with it if I'm depressed.

GWBBQ
Jan 2, 2005


KozmoNaut posted:

He did fool a lot of impressionable teenagers, mostly.

Try reading the black metal thread in NMD, it gets pretty ridiculous sometimes. And don't you dare imply that black metal and the whole obsession with being as EVIL as possible is a bit silly. It is vitally important to dedicated black metal fans that the music is never described as "beautiful" or "pleasing" or another other such "weak" adjective. The whole point of it to them is that the music is as ugly and divisive as possible, in order to "scare the normals". They also don't give a poo poo about murders, nazis or any other deplorable things happening in the scene, some of them actually applaud it, as it just makes it even more edgy.

So yeah, everything is as it has always been in the BM scene. Varg still has a huge, slobbering fanbase that worships his every word.
I particularly like the fact that Varg designed his own tabletop RPG because he felt that D&D suffered significantly from not including racism as a game mechanic.

WickedHate
Aug 1, 2013

by Lowtax

GWBBQ posted:

I particularly like the fact that Varg designed his own tabletop RPG because he felt that D&D suffered significantly from not including racism as a game mechanic.

There's always FATAL.

pookel
Oct 27, 2011

Ultra Carp
What I find confusing, if not exactly unnerving, is that Varg came out of prison looking like a lumberjack.

Sexy Randal
Jul 26, 2006

woah
I found this to be an interesting and disturbing read about Munchausen syndrome by proxy.

Dee Dee Wanted Her Daughter To Be Sick, Gypsy Wanted Her Mom To Be Murdered

right to bear karma
Feb 20, 2001

There's a Dr. Fist here to see you.

pookel posted:

What I find confusing, if not exactly unnerving, is that Varg came out of prison looking like a lumberjack.

Guess he was trying to live up to his ideal master race physique or something. I saw some prison interviews with him once where he'd randomly mutter poo poo in rudimentary Russian. loving goober.

Dapper_Swindler
Feb 14, 2012

Im glad my instant dislike in you has been validated again and again.

Sexy Randal posted:

I found this to be an interesting and disturbing read about Munchausen syndrome by proxy.

Dee Dee Wanted Her Daughter To Be Sick, Gypsy Wanted Her Mom To Be Murdered

yeah. that was depressing read and i would consider that justifiable homicide. in a more liberal state it might have been. I just wonder what all those meds did to her body. hope she lives a better life after prison

Jedit
Dec 10, 2011

Proudly supporting vanilla legends 1994-2014

pookel posted:

What I find confusing, if not exactly unnerving, is that Varg came out of prison looking like a lumberjack.

Lots of men do. Probably because there's poo poo all to do in prison except exercise, especially the ones that don't use equipment. Serial convict Charles Salvador (formerly Bronson) was doing 2000 push ups every day into his mid-50s and kept getting into trouble for bending the bars of his cell.

WickedHate
Aug 1, 2013

by Lowtax

Jedit posted:

Lots of men do. Probably because there's poo poo all to do in prison except exercise, especially the ones that don't use equipment. Serial convict Charles Salvador (formerly Bronson) was doing 2000 push ups every day into his mid-50s and kept getting into trouble for bending the bars of his cell.



This is about what I'd expect the most violent guy in Britain to look like.

pookel
Oct 27, 2011

Ultra Carp

Jedit posted:

Lots of men do. Probably because there's poo poo all to do in prison except exercise, especially the ones that don't use equipment. Serial convict Charles Salvador (formerly Bronson) was doing 2000 push ups every day into his mid-50s and kept getting into trouble for bending the bars of his cell.
I'm not talking about the muscles, I'm talking about the plaid flannel and bushy beard.

ETA: I was wrong, it's camo, not plaid. Still looks like a good ol' boy who hangs out in the woods with his buddies and drinks Coors.

pookel has a new favorite as of 02:04 on Aug 20, 2016

Nckdictator
Sep 8, 2006
Just..someone
Alright, I just read the worst thing ever. An account of the Warsaw Uprising by a Wehrmacht solider.


http://www.warsawuprising.com/witness/schenk.htm

quote:

“In Warsaw I partook in 19 fights on knives and bayonets. In cellars. Cellars were a second Warsaw. When you fight in a cellar, it's quiet, you don't see anything. I was faster. I killed that Pole. Warsaw – my most terrible experiences.

...

“We were entering Warsaw walking the cobblestones. Poles were shooting but we couldn’t see them. White flags on buildings. I jumped through a broken window. On the stairs I saw a man and a woman shot once in their foreheads."

“We were storming house by house, everywhere we saw civilians, women and children. Everyone had a hole in the forehead. We made our way to the SS barracks. Another company that drove the lorries took a wrong turn and got straight in front of Polish positions. Some of the trucks were on flames; soldiers were running for their lives. Many were running straight into the Polish line of fire. The sergeant fell a few steps from me."

“The next day we were ordered to take over a road. We went through small gardens. Our commander Lieutenant Fels was rushing us forward. We had to blow up the doors of the building from which the fiercest fire was shot. We threw hand grenades and jumped in. The Poles surrounded us. A short knife fight and we escape into the bushes. Four of the guys from our railway wagon died. Once again Fels was driving us to attack, but the Poles were well hidden. We could not withdraw because they were shooting at us from the back, as well. All night we were sitting in these small gardens like scared animals. I was thirsty. I found some tomatoes. We were constantly shot at. The next evening the infantry came to the rescue but we made no progress. Then a SS unit arrived. They looked strange. They had no ranks on their uniforms and reeked of vodka. They attacked instantly screaming hooorrraaay and were dying by dozens. Their commander dressed in a black leather coat was raging in the back pushing his men to attack. A tank arrived. We rushed with the SS troopers behind it. A few meters from the buildings the tank was hit. It exploded and a soldier’s hat flew high up. We ran away again. The second tank was hesitating. We were covering the front as the SS-men were rushing civilians out of their homes and positioning them around the tank, forcing some to sit on the armor. For the first time in my life I saw such a thing. They were speeding up a Polish woman in a long coat. She was holding a little girl in her arms. People crowded on the tank were helping her to climb up. Someone took the girl. When he was handing her back to the mother the tank started moving forward. The child fell down under the tracks and got crushed. The woman was screaming in terror. One of the SS-men frowned and shot the woman in the head. They continued driving. Those who tried to escape were killed by SS-men."

“The attack was successful. The Poles were retreating. We chased behind them. Behind us civilians were getting out of cellars with their arms up. They were screaming nicht partisan (we are not partisans). I didn’t see what was happening there because we were exchanging fire with the Poles but I heard as this SS commander in the leather coat was shouting to his men to kill everyone, including women and children."

“We followed the Poles into one of the houses. There were three of us. We were on the ground floor. The Poles were attacking from upper floors and the cellar. All night we were burning furniture to see something. Time after time we were fighting bayonet to bayonet. At dawn I saw that there are only two of us. The third soldier had his throat slit. There were bodies in every room. A sniper was shooting at us from the roof of a house across the street. We’ve hit him, he fell down but his leg caught on the construction beam. He was hanging upside down. He lived for a long time before he died. When we were returning, bodies of Poles were scattered all over the streets. There was no other way than to walk on dead people. In the heat they were decaying rapidly. The sun was covered with dust and smoke. Plenty of flies and worms. We were covered with blood. The uniforms were sticky. This fanatic fool Lieutenant Fels welcomed us. Where have you been, you cheeky pigs? He was praising the SS for a good job. I couldn’t eat anything. We were all throwing up."

...

“After a few days of fighting we were assigned to Dirlewanger. Three Sturmpioniere for each SS platoon. Our job was to make way for SS-men, blow up all obstacles and doors. We were jumping into houses and chasing out people. We were Fels’ people but during the fight we were under Dirlewanger’s command."

“Always in the lead. Run, place the explosive and after the detonation jump into the building. We were followed by Dirlewanger’s horde. They were looking like bums. Dirty and shredded uniforms. Not all of them had weapons; they were taking them from the dead. Every morning they were getting vodka. We, the Sturmpioniere did too. We were drinking on an empty stomach; before attack one does not eat. If you get shot in an empty stomach, you may survive; if you are shot in a full stomach you die in pain."

“Dirlewanger walked in the rear, sometimes rode in a tank, always under a good cover. He rushed his men forward. Those who lagged behind were shot by him in the back."

“Usually a large crowbar was enough to open doors of buildings and houses. To open stronger ones we were setting explosives or clusters of three grenades. The heavy, two-winged doors of the Bishop’s Palace blew out in two directions. Inside everything was purple. In the dining room food was set on the table. Still warm. We didn’t try it, because we were afraid it was poisoned."

“It's important to know where to set the explosives. From the side, in the middle. All depends where you want the doors to fly after the explosion and everything must be done as silent as possible because the Poles were standing behind doors listening and shooting. So we sometimes scratched opposing ends of doors to mislead the Poles."

“I was setting explosives under big doors, somewhere in Old Town. From inside we heard Nicht schießen! Nicht schießen! (don't shoot). The doors opened and a nurse appeared with a tiny white flag. We went inside with fixed bayonets. A huge hall with beds and mattresses on the floor. Wounded were everywhere. Besides Poles there were also wounded Germans. They begged the SS-men not to kill the Poles. A Polish officer, a doctor and 15 Polish Red Cross nurses surrendered the military hospital to us. The Dirlewangerers were following us. I hid one of the nurses behind the doors and managed to lock them. I heard after the war that she has survived. The SS-men killed all the wounded. They were breaking their heads with rifle butts. The wounded Germans were screaming and crying in despair. After that, the Dirlewangerers ran after the nurses; they were ripping clothes off them. We were driven out for guard duty. We heard women screaming. In the evening, on Adolph Hitler's Square [now Piłsudzki Square] there was a roar as loud as during boxing fights. So I and my friend climbed the wall to see what was happening there. Soldiers of all units: Wehrmacht, SS, Kaminski's Cossacks [ RONA ], boys from Hitlerjugend; whistles, exhortations. Dirlewanger stood with his men and laughed. The nurses from the hospital were rushed through the square, naked with hands on their heads. Blood ran down their legs. The doctor was dragged behind them with a noose on his neck. He wore a rag, red maybe from blood and a thorn crown on top of the head. All were lead to the gallows where a few bodies were hanging already. When they were hanging one of the nurses, Dirlewanger kicked the bricks she was standing on. I couldn't watch that anymore. We ran to our quarters, but before we reached them we saw Kaminski’s Cossacks rushing with civilians. We called those 'Cossacks Hiwis' – from Hilfswillige (volunteers, willing to help). Next to them a Polish pregnant woman fell down. One of the Hiwis turned back and whipped her, she tried to escape on knees, but they killed her running over her with horses.”

“We were sleeping in cellars. In the quarters, between attacks, we drank a lot of vodka; we talked a lot, too. 'Maybe tomorrow I will be wounded and return home', we were saying."

“We had nightmares. I screamed in my sleep. Then my companions were waking me up with cold water saying 'Bubi, Du hast den Warschaukoller' (Bubi, you have the Warsaw madness)."

“We slept in clothes, continuous alarms; Raus! Raus! Fels yelled. More than once we could hear the Poles on the other side of the wall. Once they even sang a lively song. Sometimes I cried. When you attack you are not afraid, but in the quarters you shake. We drank a lot.”

“We demolished a wall which was obstructing the view of a big yard. SS planned to storm the buildings on the other side of it. When a colleague was battering the doors with a crowbar, I saw a Pole on my left side. I pulled my colleagues into a hole in the wall, but both got hit. One got the whole magazine, the second in the lungs, the bullet bounced from the dog tag. When he was breathing, blood was pouring out of his mouth. I put soil in his lung wound. I was lying with the dead and the wounded. I pressed against the wall. My colleague groaned, the Poles tossed grenades. I threw one back, the second rolled out of my reach. I was red from the blood and flesh. In the afternoon four soldiers from Wehrmacht came with stretchers. We managed to break through, but the wounded colleague got three shots and died. I couldn't say a word; I shivered and was throwing up. The Major gave me a day to rest, so I saw the burial of my colleagues. They took their shoes off, threw them into a ditch with other killed and sprinkled with lime. Polish civilians had to do everything."

“Colleagues were perishing, new ones were sent to us. I had stupid luck, maybe because when Fels forced me to action, he wished me to ‘die like a dog’.” (Schenk is laughing). “I don't think he liked me. Our group of assault engineers was called then the Himmelfahrtskommando (Commando of Ascension), because we always were first, and the Poles were shooting, no one knew from where. The bullet whizzes and you fly to heaven. We quickly learned from clever Poles how to hide. They could shoot from under a slightly risen roofing tile. Many fought in German uniforms and spoke German very well. We couldn't wear our metal helmets as Poles were wearing them too. We were afraid we would start shooting at our own troops."

“In the beginning I was a bad shooter. I was punished for lack of aim. I couldn't shut my left eye. They were suspecting I'm simulating. They sent me to a doctor and he told me to shoot from the other hand. I became a left eye shooter. It was quite handy in street fights."

“Once in a hand-to-hand combat a Pole yanked the rifle from a new colleague. Fels came in with SS-men and ordered him to retrieve the gun. The boy was shaking all over, but Fels drew his own gun and ordered him to follow the Poles. The boy returned quickly badly wounded with a knife; he was screaming and bleeding."

“I was left alone once more. My storm troop mates were heavily wounded with knife and bayonet. It was August 6th. From that point on the dates are blurry. I can only remember the heaviest fights in a certain order, but without dates. I remember, that on August 14th I got a postcard from the pastor from Minefield; last message from home. On September 15 I was looking at the other bank of the Vistula River. I saw a Russian tank Then a second and third. They came to the bank. We all panicked. The Russians must have had a great view of our positions; they weren't shooting. The tanks disappeared between houses.”

“I was lying in an apartment on the third floor. A SS officer ordered us to hold the house. The whole apartment was covered with a thick layer of sand. Good idea, I was admiring the owners. I would do the same. They must have worked hard. The sand protected the apartment from fire. ‘After the war all they will need to do is remove it,’ I thought. I was throwing gasoline bottles through the window at the cinema on the other side of street. Houses attacked with such bottles usually were starting to burn. I thought we smoked out the Poles, but they were still shooting and tossing grenades. In the dust of the last detonation I started to run downstairs. When I moved by a window on the staircase, I felt pain like from a strike of a whip and something hot. Hands and face in blood. I felt I was seriously wounded. My friends too. They took my pants off and started to roll on the floor laughing. I had a small mark on my butt. A bullet hit the canteen with coffee.”

“Sometimes in the movies, there are scenes from the Uprising, but there is nothing that I've seen. I haven't told that to anybody yet with such great detail. You ask about everything. It’s your right, but everything is coming to life again. Back then we had no idea that those killed will never die, that they will always be with us. Everything happened so quickly. Shouting, shooting. Singular faces. All this is stuck in my memory very strongly.”

(Schenk hides his face in his hands).

“We blew up the doors, I think of a school. Children were standing in the hall and on the stairs. Lots of children. All with their small hands up. We looked at them for a few moments until Dirlewanger ran in. He ordered to kill them all. They shot them and then they were walking over their bodies and breaking their little heads with butt ends. Blood streamed down the stairs. There is a memorial plaque in that place stating that 350 children were killed. I think there were many more, maybe 500."

“Or that Polish woman" (Schenk doesn't remember which action it was). "Every time, when we stormed the cellars and women were inside the Dirlewanger soldiers raped them. Many times a group raped the same woman, quickly, still holding weapons in their hands. Then after one of the fights, I was standing shaking by the wall and couldn't calm my nerves. Dirlewanger soldiers burst in. One of them took a woman. She was pretty. She wasn't screaming. Then he was raping her, pushing her head strongly against the table, holding a bayonet in the other hand. First he cut open her blouse. Then one cut from stomach to throat. Blood gushed. Do you know, how fast blood congeals in August?"

“There is also that small child in Dirlewanger’s hands. He took it from a woman who was standing in the crowd in the street. He lifted the child high and then threw it into the fire. Then he shot the mother."

“Or that little girl who unexpectedly came out of the cellar. She was thin and short, something about 12 years old. Torn clothes, disheveled hair. On one side we, on the other Poles. She was standing by the wall not knowing where to run. She raised her hands, and said Nicht Partizan. I waved with my hand that she shouldn't be afraid and should come closer. She was walking with her little hands up. She was squeezing something in one of her hands. She was very close when I heard a shot. Her head bounced. A piece of bread fell out from her hand. In the evening the platoon leader, he was from Berlin, came up to me and said proudly: ‘It was a master shot. Wasn’t it?’ He smiled proudly."

“Frequently children came to us. They couldn't find their parents. They wanted bread. A small Polish boy brought us food when we were on guard duty. I don't think he was a captive. I don't know. I was then on guard in a cellar of a textile factory. The boy didn't know German, but we could communicate with gestures. When I had, I gave him cigarettes. Passing by was a SS-man. He waved at the boy to follow him. The boy went after him. Then I heard a shot. I ran. The dead boy was lying on the stairs. The SS-man pointed the gun at me. He gave me a long look, but eventually left. This is how matters were in Warsaw."

“Our mascot was a crippled boy. Also 12 years old. He lost one leg, but could jump very fast on the other one. He was very proud of that. He always jumped around the soldiers, back and forth. We said it was for luck. He helped a little. One day the SS-men called him. He jumped to them willingly. They were laughing and asked him to jump to the trees. From far I saw that they put 2 grenades into his bag. He didn't notice. He was jumping and they laughed at him shouting: Schneller, schneller! (faster, faster). The boy blew up."

“I usually wake up very early, my wife sleeps longer. Sometimes in a half-dream I see killed people in front of me. Sometimes I am trying to count those I killed myself, but I can't.”

“There was a shortage of water in Warsaw. There was a bathtub at a dressing point, where fresh water was stored. Once I jumped into it. Many others jumped too. A paramedic I knew told me about lots of underwear left in an abandoned cellar. It was blue, non-regulatory. I got rid of the military rags and took the blue ones. Later on I got one week of penitentiary company from the sergeant. I had to carry mines on the river's bank."

“My second penitentiary watch was for a priest. We blew up the back door to a monastery – very heavy, they lead to a cellar. The monastery, a huge building near the Old Town, was already very damaged by bombs and grenades. Two of us jumped inside. There was a priest standing in front of us. He held a wafer and a chalice in his hands. Maybe this was an impulse, I don't know. We genuflected and took the communion. Then a third from our group ran in and did the same. SS-men stormed in and the usual shots, screams, and groans could be heard. The nuns were in habits. A few hours later I saw that priest in Dirlewangerers' hands. They drank wine from the chalice, the wafers were scattered and broken. They were pissing on a cross that was leaning against the wall. They were torturing the priest: he had a bloody face, torn cassock. We took that priest from them, it was an impulse. They were surprised, but so drunk, that they didn't know what was happening. The next day they also didn't remember what happened. We passed the priest to our battalion. I didn't hear about him anymore. But on the road we meet Fels. For the priest I got a solitary guard duty on a bridge. I think it was the Kierbiedz Bridge. Bridges on the Vistula River were already demolished, but part some of the spans were still standing. The Russians had a machine gun nest on their side of the river and we had ours on our side. Day and night I had to stand in the middle of the bridge and gather intelligence. I hid behind steel cranes. The night was peaceful. From time to time the guns were shooting at each other, more into the air because of large distance. During the day the Russians were moving around rather carefree. In the back small cars were bringing food and officers with wide epaulettes observed through binoculars our part of Warsaw. Soldiers were sun tanning."

“On another penal guard, hidden in a bale of fabric in a textile factory, I watched the Poles. In case of attack I had to shoot a red flare and run away. There were 40 of them. A uniformed officer was leading the group. They looked pitiful. Many were wounded. I saw women with weapons, civilians, and children. Their weaponry was poor. In the evening I returned with a report. We stormed that hideout in the morning."

“I don't remember when we decided to kill this pig Fels. To survive because he constantly pushed us ahead. Seven or eight of us drew rifles at random. Two were loaded. When the occasion came up that Fels was in front of us we shot him in the back. He fell and we escaped. The new commander was much more humane.”

“Today I don't know if we blew up the State Securities Printing House or maybe the Polish Bank. It was somewhere downtown. We couldn't conquer that target for a long time. They told us to dig a tunnel. We dug in pairs, wearing only underpants. We changed in the fore. When I was in front, I smelled a strange odor and then my colleague stopped taking soil from me. I crawled to him; he was dead. The tunnel exited into a cellar. I heard Poles. They probably took it over. At night I crawled out of the hole and walking through the cellars managed to rejoin ours. I couldn't recognize the sentry. He ordered me to lie on the ground. I screamed my name and password: Heidekrug (pot of the heather). He asked why I'm clad in underpants only. Eventually he believed me."

“The next day they brought a ‘Goliath’. Civilians had to lead its path, because Poles learned how to detonate a ‘Goliath’ at our lines and many soldiers died. The Goliath made a hole in the wall. The whole night we were chasing the Poles in the cellars and on the floors. In the morning a tank came and the building was taken. Lots of gold coins lay about in the cellars. We were stuffing our pockets so full so that our pants were falling off. Then the gold disappeared. The boys were whispering that Dirlewanger took it somewhere.”

“That was probably my last action in Warsaw. We were storming some building, I ran through a field. A wounded soldier lay on the ground. I gave him some water from my canteen, than ran forward to blow some doors. The SS was moving behind us. When I ran back, Dirlewanger stopped me. He pointed to the wounded soldier: ‘You gave water to this pig?’ Only then did I notice, that on a German uniform the wounded had a dirty white-red armband."

"‘Shoot him!’ Dirlewanger handed me his pistol."

"I stood motionless, sick of all of that. Dirlewanger was so furious, that I couldn't understand what he was shouting. The Pole looked at me. I will never forget his eyes. In Warsaw I learned to recognize if a wounded would survive the next ten minutes or a couple of hours. When one sees so many people dying you just know how long they will live. One of Dirlewanger SS-men grabbed the gun from me and shot the Pole."

“Dirlewanger shouted that he will shoot me on site. Then some Wehrmacht soldiers arrived so he began to threaten me with court martial. One infantry officer started a violent discussion with him. I ran away."

“By the end of September three Poles approached me with their hands up. They handed over a machine gun and two pistols. One of them spoke perfect German. I stood alone at my post. I didn't know what to do. I said they have to wait, and better not be noticed by anyone. I was lucky, I quickly found our new lieutenant. He took the POWs personally and escorted them to the SS."

“The last stronghold of the Uprising surrendered. Some high-ranking officer came, as a representative of the nation, with a white flag. We led him to our battalion commander. I saw there our Major Wullenberg, Dirlewanger and other commanders. After a couple of hours the Poles arrived, with a vast number of people following them. All the wounded were placed in a huge warehouse of a vinegar factory. We were ordered to leave. From the outside we heard screams and shots. I know what happened there."

“During the last days of the Uprising I ran across Fels. He was seriously wounded, but survived our shots. I carefully avoided him. I saw Dirlewanger for the last time – he was walking among the ruins accompanied by two beautiful women. The city was burning, dead bodies were everywhere in the streets. His leather coat was worn out. The women – one blonde, one brunette – were very elegant, clean. They were chattering away happily. I didn't know if these women were Polish – I was too far."

“The remnants of Warsaw were being blown up by demolition squads. We were relocated, but in November we returned to Warsaw once again. We were playing soccer. The ball fell into a cellar. I jumped in to bring it back. In the cellar there were uncountable human bodies, now almost skeletons.”...

Proteus Jones
Feb 28, 2013



Nckdictator posted:

Alright, I just read the worst thing ever. An account of the Warsaw Uprising by a Wehrmacht solider.


http://www.warsawuprising.com/witness/schenk.htm

Christ. That's going to haunt my dreams. I can't imagine how anyone could live that and stay sane.

I think I'm going to sit and hug my dog for a while.

Phanatic
Mar 13, 2007

Please don't forget that I am an extremely racist idiot who also has terrible opinions about the Culture series.

Jedit posted:

Lots of men do. Probably because there's poo poo all to do in prison except exercise, especially the ones that don't use equipment. Serial convict Charles Salvador (formerly Bronson) was doing 2000 push ups every day into his mid-50s and kept getting into trouble for bending the bars of his cell.

If you haven't seen the movie where Tom Hardy plays Bronson, do it.

Story behind this guy, Michael Peterson, is that he's supposedly the most violent criminal in England.

He started as a petty criminal in Cheshire and received his first prison setence in 1974 when he was 22. He got 7 years for robbing a post office; he stole 26.18 pounds. His response to imprisonment was constant violence. He attacked prisoners, he attacked guards, he attacked the physical substance of the prison itself. He spent a lot of time in solitary confinement. He got moved around from prison to prison, and eventually the prison system got so sick of dealing with him that he was instead committed to a high-security mental hospital.

He didn't like being constantly drugged so he attempted to prove his sanity by the simple expedient of trying to strangle a guy who'd raped and murdered a child. They moved him to another mental institution, where he started a one-man riot and caused L250,000 of damage to the facility by climing onto the roof and ripping it apart. Eventually the mental health system got so sick of dealing with him that it declared him sane and he was sent back into the general prison population.

He was eventually released in 1987, when he took up bare-knuckle boxing. Apparently he was once slated to fight Lenny Maclean (the guy who played Barry the Baptist in Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, and a real-life bare-knuckle boxer of fearsome reputation). He adopted "Charles Bronson" as his fighting name after his agent rejected his first choice of Charlton Heston. This period of freedom (during which he supposedly once fought a dog) ended after 69 days, because he robbed a jewelry store to obtain an engagement ring for his girlfriend, who wound up testifying for the prosecution.

He eventually got into the prison art scene, he's won awards for him poems and drawings, but this isn't a prison movie where the misunderstood bad guy settles down and expresses the beauty within; in 1999 he took his civilian art instructor hostage for 44 hours following a perceived slight, during which he actually managed to knock himself unconscious while ripping a washing machine out of the wall. He's been in solitary confinement for a total of *30 years*. He was friends with the Kray twins in prison and *they* found him scary.

Bronson is a loose recounting of this guy's life. The title role is Tom Hardy's and he is simply completely and viscerally amazing in it. He's 100% convincing at being loving terrifying. Head shaved bald except for an old-tyme handlebar moustache, he exudes tension and menace. You distinctly get the sense that the guy has no limits, at any given time he could just decide "I think I want to beat this person to death with my bare hands" and do it. His modus operandi is to take a hostage, take off all his clothes, and grease himself down with butter stolen from the cafeteria in preparation for the all-out fight with the guards when they show up to extricate the hostage. At one point, he takes a prison librarian hostage and demands to talk to the warden and present his demands. The warden asks "What do you want?" Bronson's taken completely aback, he has no idea what to ask for, taking the hostage was an act of pure reflex. "What have you got?"

The story's told in a frame that consists of Hardy either made up like a vaudeville act and playing on a stage to an appreciative crowd or sitting down and talking to the camera in the style of every prison interview. This is pretty much a perfectly fitting device.

The movie opens with him, greased up, naked, in a cage, awaiting the onrush of guards he knows is coming. The movie ends with him with the poo poo beaten out of him, naked and bloody and groaning, in another, much smaller coffin-sized cage.

The parallels with A Clockwork Orange are numerous and obvious. This is a very good film, and Tom Hardy does a staggering job.

Phanatic has a new favorite as of 03:20 on Aug 20, 2016

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ChickenOfTomorrow
Nov 11, 2012

god damn it, you've got to be kind

Zodijackylite posted:


Euronymous, with spiked maul

That's one heck of an escalation from the ol' showerhead.

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