Arrrrre Yyyyou Rrrrready? A Live Review of Korn

by Nikki Miller and Andrew Flanagan

For this second chapter of Rational Dialectic, Andrew Flanagan and Nikki Miller soak in the sold-out Korn show in First Avenue's Main Room, wherein they encounter a real-life vagitarian, black shirt farts, and confront head-on their checkered musical her-and-histories. And rimming.

Nikki Miller: Dude, have you noticed that it smells like butt in here? But only if you're standing behind a dude in a black t-shirt. But there are at least two dudes in here in dress shirts, and they smell like choochie cologne.

Andrew Flanagan: Um, choochie?

NM: Choochie. Did I just make that up? What's a chooch? Or is that slang for lady parts? Speaking of which, that really big dude in the black shirt that says VAGITARIAN? Probably smells like butt.

AF: The vagitarian smells like a lot of things (longing, KFC double downs, butt), but not [lovemaking]. Never [lovemaking].

NM: I dunno. He had a gal standing next to him who was like his [significant other]. I'm imagining his face all moist with her, um, kisses.

AF: Fuck, Nikki. "Um, kisses"?

NM: Now, give it up for KOЯN! Arrrrrrre yooooooouuuu readddday, Andrew? The people want KOЯN! I know this because they are shouting "We want KOЯN!" Can we call them corn from now on?

AF: Vagitarian sighted!

NM: Dude! Yes. Do you think that vagitarian ever [REDACTED]? That was a sex and poop joke, by the way. (And rimming.)

AF: Subtle.

NM: (Have I told you about what the dude who works here told me about rimming?)

AF: (I feel like you're gonna)

NM: Okay, here's the story. This guy who works here used to be in my history class at Macalester. We were supposed to interview each other about our summer vacation on the first day, and report back to the class on our partner. So I report back: "Class, this is Damon. He works as a bouncer at First Ave. And the weirdest thing to happen to him there? Well, there was a guy and a gal upstairs at the tables, and he had to kick the guy out because he ACTUALLY TOSSED THE LADY'S SALAD ON TO THE FLOOR! I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW FIRST AVE SERVED SALAD!"

AF: I'm outside, and the drunkest, biggest fake-boobed lady ever looked at me like she was gonna punch me.

NM: You should offer to toss her salad. Then Damon will kick you out.  Will you [REDACTED] my [REDACTED] on the floor here so this creepy guy stops trying to talk to me? That'd get the point across. Ew. Nevermind, new subject.

AF: Iiiiiiiii'mmmmm nnnnootttttttt rrrrrready! TRACK SUITS! I told you so!

NM: Dude, I'm way more excited to see them now than at the Fargodome in '99. Jon still has the same pussy microphone. He totally has a lisp, right? He looks like he would. Fuck I love this band.

AF: But that' There's nothing more interesting on stage than a fence of amps keeping the newbie guitarist sequestered in the back?

NM: Let's stop writing about this. Come headbang with me. Dude, I'm 16 again. I'm losing my virginity in my boyfriend's mom's bed all over again. He's scrubbing out the [REDACTED] stains with Windex. And this song is playing. Oh god!

AF: Meanwhile I'm having memories of stealing Vantage cigarettes from my gramma, Summit from my mom, and walking to friends' houses at 2AM, only to sneak back at 6. Your youth involves a lot of [REDACTED].

NM: Dude, they're covering Queen. I told you he had a lisp!

AF: They will rock us! Right now!

NM: If you exchange only one letter, KoЯn and rock are the same word. When you spell corn, it's kinda just as close. Dude.

AF: Seriously, I'm high and all I want is Corn Nuts. And you just blew my mind. My miiiiiind.

NM: I'm not high, and all I can think about is getting rimmed by Munky. KIDDING!

AF: Their scratchy magoo [this is 'DJ' in some language] totally stole Fever Ray's makeup. I wonder if he's a fan of Swedish avant-goth-electro-pop?

NM: OMG LOL. (Think anyone will post pics from this show on the OMG LOL website? We are watching Bella Koshka, right?)

[Andrew & Nikki are completely incorrect, for the billionth time. The local humour blog they're referencing is titled LOL/OMG and you can read it here]

AF: Remember when I said I remember nothing about KoЯn? And that it'd all come flooding back to me? It's not.

NM: Sad. I'm dancing dude. Dancing!

AF: OMG LOL [idiot]. Look at you go!

NM: I feel as though... something's falling away from me. Must bend at knees, bang head.

AF: Jon Davis had a hard younger life. It's beating you down. Down. Down.

NM: I heard he got laid a lot. Oh god, let's not post that. Sexual abuse is only funny when we have no choice but to laugh, lest we cry.

AF: Sex abuse has never been so sustainably lucrative!

NM: Redacted.

AF: I'm drinking way too much gin for a corn show.

NM: Is gin made of corn? Is KoЯn made of gin? Do I sound like a philosopher right now? Hey look, there's the Vagitarian's girlfriend! You know you want to. We should probably go in the bathroom and do some corn. Hey, did I tell you about the Corn Skit Incident of '95, Holgate Junior High?

AF: Storytime w/Nikki again? So soon? What about just sustaining a train of thought for an extended period of time? Like a minute?

NM: So I was in a "no drugs" performing troupe. We performed a skit on the last day of school for the whole junior high, which involved us doing "drugs," but replace "drugs" with cans of "cream corn." "Oh man, try this cold cream corn. It'll blow your mind, everyone's doing cream corn, man." Funny, right? Well, one of the dudes in our "clean" performing troupe whose friends all did drugs felt embarrassed, so to make it all cool he turned it into a giant cream corn food fight. We were never allowed to perform again. Hey, speaking of "corn," I'm gonna go to the bathroom. brb. Because my mom is reading this (Hi Mom!), I'll disclaim that's a poop not drugs joke. Because my boyfriend's reading this (Hi Alex!), I'll disclaim that I didn't realliy poop corn, but I totally peed asparagus. God that shit's ripe.

AF: Like that bassist's face. What I'm learning about myself is invaluable: Apparently my KOЯN phase was short, and I wasn't paying attention.

NM: I LOVE THIS! I take that back. I'm tired of sweaty people in black shirts rubbing their sweaty black shirts on me. Get me outta here!

AF: I just saw the first "EVIL INSIDE" Intel shirt in a decade. Love those. Not really.

NM: Arrrrre yoooou readddday? This is the song. People love it. Shit, that bass drop just made me drop my corn.

AF: They're really feeling it. It's hard maintaining my objectivity in the face of such vast misplaced angst. Or perfectly channeled angst? Also, really expected to run into some of my Richfield peeps here. Nothin'. AAAAAAND THE BAGPIPE.

NM: Oh my god I forgot that Jon Davis played the pipes!

AF: This is where I get way fucking into it. I'm Irish you know. FUCK BAGPIPES GONE.

NM: And see, I knew they had a nursery rhyme song! Bet he wrote this song after an intense therapy session in about '95.

AF: Where's the allusion to the old woman in the shoe?

NM: My arm is wet with black t-shirt sweat. Feel it.

AF: Ew!!!

NM: Haha you felt it.

AF: Fuck, it's like corn syrup and flypaper. I wanna listen to Grizzly Bear, palate-cleanse before I watch Treme and podcast This American Life.

NM: I've stopped having fun. It is so sweaty in here. God someone farted. I'm glad this isn't my dating pool. Does that make me a snob?

AF: To think how many five-year marriages are being conceived as we speak.

NM: God, I'm imagining them all having sex, sweaty in black shirts. This is less fun now.

AF: Now we're on the same page! You're following a similar arc to this band's career - eventually it's the same sweaty farty city. Ad nauseum.

Next time: Nikki & Andrew investigate a young punk band in the hopes of it leading them to self-understanding. This almost certainly won't happen to Nikki.

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