Nine Inch Nails - Happiness In Slavery

Happiness In Slavery-Nine Inch Nails

The Video

The darkness within The Pipeline increased as my woman and I entered within its confines. We walked past the front bar where the various vampires drank their crimson drinks, and approached closer to the pulsating dance floor. I gripped my partner’s warm hand, leading her through the ghoulish crowd that contorted itself in synch with the pounding Industrial beat. All around us, the beautiful dark figures twisted and turned to allow us safe passage through their midst.

Reaching the other side of the human mass, we came upon my small circle of friendly associates gathered as usual by the left side of the glowing stage. The first welcoming face to reach out for me was that of the woman who introduced me to the subculture of The Pipeline, Denise. She approached me, as she always does, with extended arms and I eased into her tight embrace. It felt good to see her again. I have been away for far too long.

Breaking the embrace, I turned toward my beautiful lady and commenced the introductions. “Robyn,” I began, “this is friend Denise. Denise, this is my girlfriend Robyn. She’s up here from Philly for Thanksgiving.” And so, with similar words I introduced to all of my compatriots: Amanda, Ileana, Joseph, Mark, and Joe.

It was Robyn’s first time at The Pipeline on a Saturday night and I was very happy and proud to finally get to introduce her to some of my friends. I have been involved with her since June, when our paths crossed by the grace of some divine being or another, but I hadn’t yet had a chance to introduce her to every one of my friends. I believed it was important to our relationship if we began to share with one another the many worlds that we are a part of. I have seen a portion of her twisted world and now she saw was seeing a portion of mine. I hoped that what she saw would bring us closer and not drive us further apart.

We passed beyond our friends, and mounted the far recesses of the stage. We sat down with our backs to the large video screen and held hands as we watched the dancing shapes. I lit a cigarette for her and watched as she looked out toward the dance floor. I was filled with wonder as my eyes once again explored her. Her golden hair fell in cascades, framing the radiance of her lovely face. The graceful curves of her cheekbones appeared to be made by the brushstrokes from the hands of an inspired artist. Her perfect nose appeared to have been added as a final special touch to augment her already immaculate visage.

My eyes traveled further down, taking in breathlessly the rest of her body’s impressive features. Either she was truly one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, or I was caught up in one of the strongest crushes any man has ever known. At that moment, I felt a hunger begin inside of me that I knew would only grow stronger and stronger as the hours wore on. I found myself reaching out and touching the delicate skin on her arm. When she looked over at me and smiled, my insides melted and I felt my face flush. I smiled back a helpless smile, hoping that my eyes had not revealed the full extent of my desire for her.

A troubled look crossed her face and she asked: “Are you ok, David?”

“Robyn, I…” I swallowed hard, and continued: “I, mean… This weekend was fantastic. I was so happy to be able to eat Thanksgiving supper with your family and to have you meet mine. I really missed you. It is so great having you here with me. I just wish it could be like this all the time. It sucks that it’s almost Sunday already.”

Her eyes suddenly looked wet and shiny. She grabbed my hand, holding it within both of her own. “I know. I don’t want to go back to Philly. I want to be here. With you.”

I leaned slowly toward her and our lips met with soft tenderness that soon drifted towards hot passion. Our chemistry was unbelievable. I loved kissing her. I loved the taste of her mouth and the feel of her cheeks against mine. The music stopped and we held each other a bit longer as our kiss dissipated and was replaced by our mutual smiles.

“Listen up,” D.J. Bobby’s voice boomed over the P.A. system. “Coming up now is the new video by Nine Inch Nails. I don’t like the song much, but the video is great. Check it out, folks, cause you won’t see this one on MTV.”

My heart fluttered. A new video by Nine Inch Nails! Robyn and I moved away from the screen and turned to watch the black and white images. What we saw both repulsed us and held us in rapt fascination. It was the video for “Happiness In Slavery” off their EP Broken.

The video began with Trent Reznor chained inside a metal cage screaming at the top of is lungs. The scene then cut to a middle-aged businessman entering some sanctuary that looked like a dentist’s office inside an old dusty warehouse. The man stood before a mirror and began to undress, neatly folding his clothes and placing them in a pile at the foot of a large mechanical chair. When he was fully naked, we could see that his pubic area was shaven. He walked towards the chair and sat upon it. Immediately, the chair came to life, and in unison with the beat, shackles appeared and restrained the man. A myriad of mechanical arms rose up from the sides of the chair and began to ravage the businessman’s body. Metal nails plunged into his body, while he maintained a calm facial expression. Eventually, the chair began to mutilate him, disemboweling him and skinning his penis. The man’s happy demeanor never changed as his own blood rained down upon him. The camera moved panned slowly down towards the bottom of the chair and we can see that the chair is actually a meat grinder and the man was slowly being turned into ground beef that fell down into a puddle of viscera and worms. From this mess, the form of a man took form and began to rise. It was Trent Reznor. He got up from the puddle, dressed in the man’s clothes, and stared at himself momentarily in the video. He smiled at his new body and walked out. The entire video was reminiscent of the Japanese cult movie Tetsuo.

When the video ended, I turned to Robyn to get her reaction. When our eyes met, I was happy to see that her feeling was the same as mine. She understood it! She wasn’t repulsed by it, like other people would have been. I loved her! We both smiled and said: “Brilliant!”

The rest of the night we spent dancing to the aggressive rhythm of the dark music. Our bodies moved in perfect harmony to each other, our limbs rising and falling to the beat. Her gaze held mine, capturing me and holding me as a willing hostage to her beauty. I was a slave to her charms and I found certain happiness in that slavery. The pain of her departure would make me a new and better man.

We sat again on the stage that was our world and held each other as the music played on. Again, I turned to her and whispered: “I wish this night could be our entire life.”

She leaned her head against my chest and cried: “I don’t want to go back.”

I took a chance and suggested: “Then don’t. Stay here with me and we’ll become two Punks living in the Lower East Side of New York City. We’ll wander the nights together and fight off the dawn.”

She smiled and held me tighter. “I can’t,” she said.

“I know,” I replied. “But we can always dream, can’t we?”

The music faded as our embrace grew stronger.