Varg Vikernes – Hvað gerði hann í raun og veru?

Ég hef fylgst með umræðunni hérna á huga um þennann mann og hún virðist vera byggð mest á einhverjum staðreyndum sem hugarar hafa frá öðrum hugurum o.s.f.r.v. en hvað gerðist í raun og veru. Ég ætla að komast af því.

Við skulum byrja á því að fjalla um morðið

Varg vikernes hafði verið vinur eronymus í einhver 2-3 ár þegar hann myrti eronymus, það hafði komið upp ágreiningur á milli þeirra og eronymus endaði dauður og varg endaði í 14-20 ára fangelsi.


Kryfjum málið.

Skv. Varg sjálfum hafði hann litið mjög mikið upp til eronymus fyrst og heillast mjög af manninum, en með tímanum kynntist hann manninum og kom þá í ljós að þaðurinn var bara sjálfselskur aumingi.


Margir telja að varg hafi drepið eronymus vegna peningaskulda eronymus, sem námu rúmum 500.000 krónum enn eins og varg segir

“some people think I killed him for money, but certainly I wouldn't have gotten my money back by killing him. Breaking his legs would probably have worked, but not killing him. I can always get more money if I want to and I never invest any more than I can afford to loose, anyhow. I have a very relaxed relationship to money, so this rumour is just silly, and it was only talk about 36.000 NOK anyhow (about 5100 USD, about and average month's pay in Norway).”

Eftir að eronymus neitaði að borga varg stofnaði varg sitt eigið plötufyrirtæki og eronymus, með sinn litla metnað gerði ekki neitt nema að “sitja á sínum feita rassi og drekka kók og éta kebab á meðan búðin hans varð smátt og smátt gjaldþrota”.

Varg vildi nú samt ekki að hann yrði gjaldþrota og fór í nafnlaust viðtal við blaðamann og skáldaði upp fullt af frekar ýktum black metal sögum til að beina athygli að plötubúðinni hans eronymus. Blaðamaðurinn tók þetta hinsvegar strax til lögreglunnar og lét handtaka varg.
Varg leit þó svo á að a.m.k myndi plötusölur aukast hjá eronymus, en það sem prins blackmetalsins gerði var að loka búðinni af því að MAMMA hans og PABBI vildu ekki þessa illu umfjöllun. Þarna endaði vinskapur þeirra.


Innann tíðar byrjaði varg að fá meiri athylgi en eronymus heldur en eronymus, eronymus leit svo á að varg væri að dreifa slæmri umfjöllun um hann og ætlaði að reyna að koma honum fyrir kattarnef.

Varg fékk svo í pósti bréf frá eronymus þar sem hann var mjög vingjarnlegur og vildi að þeir myndu hittast, en þáverandi meðlimur mayhem bjó heima hjá varg og hann sagði varg að eronymus vildi drepa hann. Þetta var planið “the plan was to meet me, knock me out with a stun-gun, tie me up and put me in the trunk of a car. He would then drive into the countryside, tie me to a tree and torture me to death while videotaping everything”.

Varg ákvað þá í eitt skipti fyrir öll að tala almennilega við hann og fá hann til að hætta þessari vitleysu.

Snorre, sem bjó heima hjá varg ákvað að koma líka, þar sem honum langaði að sýna eronymus nokkrar gítarriffur, á þessu sést að morð vargs var með engu móti fyrirfram skipulagt.

Næsta kafla tek ég beint frá varg:

We went to the front door of the building block and I called his doorbell. He was sleeping. You might think that visiting people in the middle of the night was a bit strange, but it was perfectly normal to us. A lot of people in the metal scene were “nocturnal creatures”, so to speak. He asked who it was, and I said my name. “I am sleeping. Can't You come back later?” he said. “I got the contract. Let me in”, I said and he buzzed me inn. His flat was on the fifth (or forth?) floor and I began climbing the stairs. Snorre wanted to have a cigarette, and smoking was banned in Euronymous' apartment (and in my car), so he waited downstairs to have a smoke.

Euronymous was waiting for me in entrance, looking very nervous, and I handed him the contract. I may add that of course he was nervous. The guy he planned to murder showed up at his doorstep in the middle of the night. I then asked him what the “f***” he was up to, and when I took a step forwards he panicked. He freaked out and attacked me with a kick in the chest. I simply threw him to the door, and was a bit stunned. I wasn't stunned by his kick, but by the fact he had attacked me. I didn't expect that. Not in his apartment and not like that. He had just started to train “kick boxing” and like all beginners thought he had become “Bruce Lee” overnight, but still.

After a few seconds he jumped from the floor and dashed for the kitchen. I knew he had a knife lying on the kitchen table, and I figured that “if he's going to have a knife, I'm going to have a knife too”. My belt knife was in the car, because it was in the belt I had left there, but I had a pocket knife, or rather a boot knife (with an 8 cm long blade) in my pocket. I jumped out in front of him and managed to stop him before he got his hands on the kitchen knife. At this point he had showed his intentions, so when he ran for the bedroom I figured he was going for another weapon. He had some weeks earlier told some people that he would soon get the shotgun back from the police (used by “Dead” when he shot himself), so I figured that was what he was going for, or he was going for his stun-gun. (Although he actually didn't have a stun-gun or the shotgun in his apartment, I didn't know that.) I gave chase, stabbed him and was a bit surprised when he ran out of the apartment instead. It made no sense to flee and it made me angry to know that he had started the fight, but the moment it didn't go his way he decided to flee instead, instead of fighting like a man. Such is always something I have disliked strongly.

(Some people have claimed I slew a helpless and unarmed man, but first of all he tried to get a knife before I did, and certainly he could have armed himself if he had chosen to stay and fight instead of running away like a coward. There was a number of other things in his apartment he could have used to defend himself with, when he failed to get hold of his kitchen knife.)

Outside we met Snorre, who had finished his cigarette. All the doors looked the same, and Snorre was a pretty absent-minded fellow, so he had ended up in the attic, one floor up, by mistake. Confused he had gone back down and used his lighter flame to light up the door sign, trying to read it and figure out if this was the right apartment. As he was trying to read the door sign Euronymous came running out in his underwear, bleeding and screaming like a madman. Snorre was so surprised and terrified he looked like a ghost, and it looked as if his eyeballs were about to fall out of his head. According to Snorre he was so surprised and shocked he had a black-out and didn't remember anything until I later asked him if he was okay.

Euronymous ran down a flight of stairs and stopped to call the neighbour's door bell. He quickly realized that I had come after him, so he continued to flee down the stairs, knocking on the walls, trying to call the door-bells of the neighbours as he ran past them, and screaming for help. I stabbed him (three or four times) in his left shoulder as he ran - that was the only part I could hit while we were running anyhow. He then stumbled and broke a lamp on the wall, probably with his head or arm, and fell into the glass fragments - in his underwear. I ran past him and waited. Snorre was still upstairs, and I had no idea how he would react to all of this. Perhaps it was a set-up and he was in on it? Perhaps he too would attack me? I didn't know. When Snorre came running he looked very scared and I just let him ran straight past me. I realized he was not a part of this, so I asked him if he was okay (because he certainly didn't look okay). By then Euronymous was back on his feet. He looked resigned and said: “It's enough”, but then he tried to kick me again, and I finished him off by thrusting the knife through his skull, through his forehead, and he died instantaneously. The eyes turned around in his head and a moan could be heard as he emptied his lungs when he died. He fell down to a sitting position, but the knife was stuck in his head, so I held him up, as I held onto the knife. When I jerked the knife from his skull he fell forward, and rolled down a flight of stairs like a sack of potatoes - making enough noise to wake up the whole neighbourhood (it was a noisy, metal staircase).

This might sound like an odd way to kill him, but my knife was very small and it was only pointed. The blade was not sharp. It was so blunt I wouldn't have been able to cut a tomato in two with it without crushing it instead. The only way to kill him quickly with that knife would be to pierce his heart or skull. In fact I would have been able to kill him much easier and quicker had I not had a knife at all, and instead had just beat him to death. The only reason I had pulled a knife was because he was trying to, and I figured it would be fair that I had a knife too, although the knife I had wasn't much.

He had showed his intention to kill me, and even though he was no longer a direct threat to me, there and then, I did not feel any bad for killing him. His cowardice had made me angry and I saw no reason to let him live, not when he had showed his intent to kill me. Had I let him live I would only let him have another attempt at my life, later on.


Opinbera sagan er svona.


Varg vikernes og snorre keyrðu frá bergen til oslo með þá áætlun að drepa eronymus. Varg fór inn á meðan snorre beið fyrir utan. Varg réðst að eronymus og þeir lentu í slag, varg stakk síðann eronymus nokkrum sinnum í bakið og hausinn, hann hljóp síðan út til snorre og þeir keyrðu í burt.


Ég hef því miður ekki mikil opinber gögn til að styðjast við þannig að þessi frásögn er stutt.





Kíkjum nú á kirkjubrennurnar.

Skv. Varg komu þau mál aldrei upp fyrr enn í réttarhöldunum yfir morðinu:

The church burnings were hardly mentioned in the court. They presented one witness in each case who claimed I had burned this or that church, and that was it. “Guilty”. Just like that. This process was repeated four times, and I was found guilty of kindling four churches, three of them having burned to the ground. There was not a single piece of physical evidence in any of these cases. I was convicted solely because of the testimony of one single person in each case. All of these witnesses were friends of Euronymous!

Even my incompetent lawyer didn't bother talking about the church fires, as it was “not important” he claimed. “You don't get much for that anyhow”, he figured. Interestingly no fingerprints or any other technical evidence were presented in court either.

Hvar sem ég leita á netinu get ég ekki fundið neina frásögn af brennunum, heldur aðeins þær fullyrðingar að varg hafi brennt þær.



allt í allt

Varg segir einnig að hann hafi einfaldlega verið gerður blóraböggull af norska ríkinu til að sýna öfgasinnuðum blackmetalistum hvað gerðist ef þeir brytu lögin. hann framdi morð, það er vitað, og hann viðurkennir það, en hann var dæmdur ranglega.


Og varg var í sjálfum sér ekki mikill kvlt gaur, hann deitaði venjulegum stelpum og ef hann fór út á djammið þá fór hann á vinsælann teknó-bar í Bergen. Hann hefur þó að vísu róttækar trúarlegar og pólitískar skoðanir en þar sem málfrelsi og hugsanafrelsi ríkir í noregi þá er það ekkert afbrot.



Áður enn þið dæmið manninn af einhverjum 2-3 línum sem einhver hugari hendir inná mynd lesiði hans frásögn.

http://www.burzum.org/eng/biography.shtml