Heavy Metal-Musik
– genauer, der zugehörigen Lyrik und Bildsprache – wird ja des Öfteren zum
Vorwurf gemacht, sie sei wahlweise infantil oder Gewalt verherrlichend. Für den
Fan im Teenageralter hatte das seinerzeit regelmäßige Zusammenstöße zur Folge:
mit den Eltern („Hörst Du wieder diese Teufelsmusik?“), der Bundesprüfstelle
für jugendgefährdende Schriften (wie sie damals noch ganz analog hieß), die
immer ausgerechnet die Autopsy-Shirts mit den coolsten Motiven indizierte,
der Musiklehrerin, die einem selbige in ihrem Unterricht zu tragen Verbot, oder
auch Gleichaltrigen, von denen man sich dumme Sprüche („Heavy Metal, nix im
Schädel“) anhören musste. Global wurde diese Konfliktlinie mit der sogenannten
„Satanic Panic“, die unter anderem im Prozess gegen Judas Priest, die mit
versteckten Botschaften auf ihren Platten den Selbstmord der Jugendlichen James
Vance und Raymond Belknap verursacht haben sollten, ihren Ausdruck fand und die
Dank philistrischer Wirrköpfe wie dem Buchautor Ulrich Bäumer („Wir wollen nur
Deine Seele“) Ende der 80er auch diesseits des Atlantiks um sich griff.
Nun, Väter, Mütter, Lehrer und Prüfstellen, wisset, euer Kampf war und ist vergebens! Denn "ES" ist von Anfang an in uns. Was Eltern unter dem Thread "What isthe creepiest thing your child has ever said to you?” an gruseligen Erlebnissen mit ihrem Nachwuchs beim Webforum Reddit eingestellt haben, könnten locker Zitate aus den Textblättern von Cannibal Corpse oder Slayer sowie diversen Horror-Klassikern wie „Poltergeist“ oder „ The Sixth Sense“ sein.
Der
BGB hat für ein paar besonders verstörende Highlights herausgefischt:
My toddler went through a
phase where she would just constantly say 'hi' to things. "Hi hi hi hi hi
hi". One day, it came out sounding more like "Die die die die
die". I say to her "What's that you're saying?"And she turns
to face me and just whispers "Diiiieeeeeee......."When I was about 3 we had a cat that had still born kittens. I asked my father if we could make crosses for them, which he did. As he was making them I asked: "aren't those too small?",
Dad: "What do you Mean?"
Me: "Aren't we going to nail them to them?"
Dad: (after several moments silence) "We're not going to do that"
Me: "oh"
5 year old: "Mommy, when you die I want to put you in a glass jar so I can keep you and see you forever" To which the 6 year old responds: "That's stupid. Where are you gonna find a jar that big?"
A friend of mine's child told him "Daddy, I love you so much that I want to cut your head off and carry it around so I can see your face whenever I want."
My cousin was thrown out of a preschool for taking off his shoe and telling a nun: "Shut up or I'll take out your eye with my shoe 'cause I'm the son of the devil."
Dad: "Go back to sleep, there isn't anything under your bed". Child: "He´s behind you now".
Während solche Sprüche ja noch als bizarrer Kinderhumor durchgehen, sind andere wirklich etwas unheimlich:
Child: "Before I was born here, I had a sister, right? Her and my other Mom are so old now. They were ok when the car was on fire, but I sure wasn't!"
When my little sister was younger she used to walk around the house with a picture frame with a picture of my great grandpa in her hands crying and saying "I miss you Harvey." Harvey had died before even I was born. Other than this common occurrence my mom told me that she would constantly say things that my great grandma Lucy would say.
When I was about 4, I would remember talking to "Mr. Peterson" whenever I was at my grandmother´s house. He looked like a hobo from the great depression and had a guitar and sang me old timey blues, he told me that he died when he fell of a train he was riding whist drunk on moonshine. I stopped seeing him when I was about 6. Anyway, 6 months ago I found my dad´s old acoustic guitar and started playing, and my little cousin told me "Mr. Peterson is proud of you!" and left.
When I was a kid "Mr. Rand" used to come into my room 4 or 5 times a week. He'd talk to me and tell me about 'stuff' and how he was killed in WW2. See Ol' mate Rand was a figment of my 4 year old imagination. Any way one day when I was 9 or so Mr. Rand stopped showing up. Fast forward to about 3 years ago and my son, who is about 5 at the time, walks out of his room one night at about 11:30 and says there's a man in his room. I flip out and run in his room to find nobody to which he then says "Mr. Rand said, you can't see him anymore, but he's ok!".
A friend of mine was six years old when she told her mother that "the lady who used to live here told me, that she hates the wallpaper" and that "you are covering her note". My friend´s mom just thought it was make believe rambling and forgot about it. Well, twelve years later when the mom is redecorating and taking down the wallpaper in the attic, she finds a suicide note scratched into the wall.
Ob man diese Geschichten beklemmend findet oder nicht, mag vom persönlichen Glauben abhängen. Aus anderen Einträgen hingegen spricht einfach die nackte Angst:
„My daughter told me she wanted to live with me and my wife forever. She's 17.”
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen