I just don't like when there's a rumor that says I'm dating

In the darkly humorous yet revealing words of Marilyn Manson, there hides a glimmer of ancient truth beneath the veil of wit and rebellion: “I just don’t like when there’s a rumor that says I’m dating someone who is below my standards. But when I got divorced, my ex-wife said I was spending all my time with Lindsay Lohan and Angelina Jolie. I was like, ‘Thank you for the big ups!’” Though spoken in jest, these words unveil the paradox of pride and perception — the eternal dance between how we are seen and who we truly are. In this quote, the shock-rock icon, ever the provocateur, reveals that even those who reject society’s judgments are not immune to its gaze. Beneath the laughter lies a meditation on reputation, ego, and the hunger for validation, which has haunted humanity since its earliest days.

Marilyn Manson, known for his defiance of convention and his cultivation of controversy, has built a career on challenging the boundaries of image and identity. Yet, even he, a man who has spent decades defying societal standards, confesses here to caring how others define him — not through moral judgment, but through status and association. His complaint that he dislikes rumors “below his standards” shows that no one, however untamed or iconoclastic, escapes the whisper of pride. And when he jokes about being linked to the glamorous figures of Lindsay Lohan and Angelina Jolie, his amusement hides a deeper truth: that human beings find strange comfort in recognition, even through falsehood. To be falsely praised, he implies, is sometimes more flattering than to be truly misunderstood.

This confession, half-serious and half-satirical, echoes an ancient truth found in every civilization — that reputation is both a mask and a mirror. The philosopher Epictetus warned that the wise should care only for their own virtue, not the opinions of others, for those opinions are as fickle as the wind. Yet even kings and sages have faltered before the allure of public esteem. Alexander the Great, though conqueror of nations, wept when his name was not exalted by poets as highly as Achilles’. He had achieved immortality through action, yet longed for immortality through perception. So too does Manson’s jest reveal this ancient hunger — the desire not only to live authentically, but to be seen as extraordinary in the eyes of the world.

But there is also laughter in his words — laughter that conceals wisdom. By saying “Thank you for the big ups!,” Manson transforms rumor into compliment, turning gossip into fuel for his legend. Here he reveals the alchemy of the self-aware: the power to reclaim narrative, to transmute criticism into identity. The ancients would have recognized this as a form of heroic irony, a trait shared by those who understand that mockery can become armor. Like the philosopher Diogenes, who lived in a barrel and mocked the vanity of others by embracing their insults, Manson demonstrates that mastery of the self includes mastery of image. To rule one’s reputation, one must first cease to be ruled by it.

And yet, beneath this humor lies a quiet warning. For though laughter can shield, it can also conceal wounds. The very fact that Manson mentions “standards” betrays the universal vulnerability of ego — the fear of being diminished in the eyes of others. The ancient Roman thinker Seneca wrote that pride is the chain that binds even the powerful, for it demands constant defense. Those who seek to seem greater than others become prisoners of perception. To truly transcend such chains, one must recognize that dignity is born not from rumor or association, but from inner truth — the knowledge of one’s own worth, independent of applause or scandal.

This tension — between self-image and self-knowledge — is one that every soul must face. In the age of fame, as in the days of the ancients, people live under the watchful eye of others’ opinions. Manson’s words remind us that even rebellion can become performance, that even the outsider may crave the validation of the crowd. Yet, they also teach us a deeper freedom: the ability to laugh at the falsehoods and to see through the illusions of judgment. When one can smile at rumor, one has already begun to loosen the grip of pride.

The lesson, then, is clear and timeless: do not let others’ voices define your worth, nor their praise inflate your pride. Accept recognition with humor, but seek validation only within. Whether the world calls you sinner or saint, genius or fool, remember that such titles are fleeting. Live with authenticity, and let rumor be the echo of your legend, not the measure of your soul. If others praise falsely, take it lightly; if they mock unjustly, take it as proof that you stand apart. For, as Marilyn Manson teaches in jest and truth alike, the highest form of strength is the ability to stand in the storm of perception — laughing, unbroken, and wholly oneself.