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Korn Kountry invades


The first thing you notice stepping out of Wellesley Station is the sign: ROAD CLOSED. Ah, yes, this here's Korn Kountry -- a place where brow piercings are performed at birth, every child's first word is "beeyatch" and PlayStation mastery is a legitimate vocation. The roadblock, therefore, is an appropriate defence mechanism -- THIS EVIL MUST BE CONTAINED!

Turns out it's just some construction. As for the demon seeds (read: Edge 102 contest winners) on hand to greet the dreadlocked deities at the Rampsterdam skate park, well, you'd be hard pressed to find a tongue stud in the bunch. The guests of honor are over 20 minutes late for their grilling, but the prepubescent parishioners are on their best behavior.

Suddenly, a door swings open. The 15-year-old girl in the Deftones shirt starts panting heavily, her disposable Kodak jiggling in her trembling hands, and the Edge listeners erupt into a shriek -- "Yeeee!!!" -- that only dogs can hear. And then they appear: Kevin! A.J.! Brian! Nick! -- shit, sorry -- Munky! Fieldy! David! And, um, Head! "Yeeee!!!" But wait -- where's Jonny? "Jonathan's grandfather passed away," Fieldy soberly responds, "so he went to be with his family." Edge listeners: "Ohhh..." "But hey -- we're here for ya!" "Yeeee!!!"

This is day 11 of the Korn Kampaign, a traveling armada whose mission is to scare people into purchasing additional units of the band's third album, Follow the Leader. But with Leader nestled in the top spot on the Billboard charts, the promo blitz seems like a moot point. And, these being the guys in Korn who aren't the singer, observations are limited to two or three syllables.

Still, psychologists could glean ample fodder from Korn's display of Pavlovian behavioral control. Korn receive home-made dolls from two girls. "Yeeee!!!" Korn hug girls. "Yeeee!!!" Korn receive bottles of Coors Light. "Yeeee!!!" Head burps after drinking said Coors Light. "Yeeee!!!" Conclusive evidence of why this band is on the PTA's Most Wanted list. And they were just getting started.


"We're not going anywhere until everybody gets behind the tank!"

The security dude with the Time-Life operator headgear isn't taking any chances -- everything has to be perfect. Two guys in kilts playing bagpipes -- check. Budget Rent-A-Van blasting Follow the Leader -- check. Korn on top of tank -- check. With a 2-4 of Canadian -- check. Let the Satan Claws parade begin.

The roving two-mile-an-hour metallic spectacle does stop several onlookers dead in their tracks, but after shrugging their shoulders they saunter up Yonge Street like polite Torontonians. For their part, Korn are just chillin', seemingly oblivious to the 200 kids swarmed around them.

But just south of College, things take a turn for the demonic. Disregarding local open container laws, Head gleefully chugs his Canadian from atop his armored sanctuary. Moments later, the van starts cranking "Children of the Korn" and Korn are up off their asses and flashing devil salutes. "Yeeee!!!" Somebody has to put an end to this debauchery.

Our prayers are soon answered; outside HMV, the Kornmobile is confronted by two 10-foot-high crucifixes, towering above the masses on Yonge Street, each accompanied by its very own Jesus.

"Hell's fire is waiting for you!" Jesus No. 1 admonishes. Visibly shaken, Korn quickly descend from their perch, disappearing behind the HMV doors. They claimed they were late for an autograph session -- yeah, right. There is no escape from the tag-team Jesuses.


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