We get into town at a decent hour (about 3:30) and get a hotel room. Ask directions from the woman at the front desk and head off to the club, and spend an hour and a half driving around trying to find the damned place. Ask one local, get a different set of directions (to roughly the same area)--ask at the Holiday Inn, get an even different set...EVB is getting frantic; it's pushing 5:30, and the show's at 7:30. (We consider ourselves 'late' if we're there less than three hours before show time - you never know who you'll run into if you're early.) FINALLY we spot tour buses - across the railroad tracks, naturally. By the time we find how to get across, I'm declaring that I'm gonna walk up and hug the first band member I see, outta sheer relief. "Twenty to one that'll be Ginger," says Chris.

"Yeah," chimes in EVB, "and a billion to one'll get you the Reverend."

We laugh. We park the car and get out. Across the street, coming around the corner to the tour bus...a billion to one.

Mr. Manson stops, looks at us; EVB waves (all the rest of us are too busy laughing like idiots, repeating 'billion to one' to each other). He walks on, gets onto the bus, and--no one else saw this, but I was watching closely--drops down in the driver's seat and resumes watching us. I can tell he's really curious about these loons who've been following the band since April.

After that we see Joey. He just doesn't fit in with Danzig--we've decided he's actually some rap guy. EVB spots Twiggy, and Daisy comes to the club door, grins and waves. Cute.

Go on in. It's KORN once more. Chris has started rewriting 'Faget' for them, in various permutations, but the one that had us breathless after the show was "500 years, who am I? I'm just a vampire!" (Understand: Chris, occasionally known as Vlad, IS a vampire. Not the draped-in-black Gothic sort, either, just your regular, everyday vampire you might meet on the street. Blends into human populations better that way. And he's got the fangs to prove it-- OK, they're movie props, but they LOOK real. Just ask all the waitresses he scared on this trip.)

They shift things around a bit onstage, so that suddenly I'm more in front of Daisy than the cube. The barrier's back too far...I'm braced for another of those frustrating nights. The Mansons enter, stage left. IT creeps out...It's one of those shows that starts out a bit slow and listless, and builds; he's pulling energy from the audience, and giving it back, recharged. You can tell this is building to be a good night. The Rev's got a few new cube tricks--the 'crouch down, then jump straight up' one is pretty impressive, got a good two-foot clearance on it. But my fave is when he drops down, lying flat across it, staring; it's like being fixed on by the formula-one racing cat, ready to pounce. He seems to like this one, too, as it repeats several times during the evening.

He's got a new hobby during 'Sweet Dreams', too--us. Our own little private show, right in our faces, singing, staring, pointing. I'm singing back, maintaining contact - I couldn't look away if I wanted to. (Even Chris has commented on the transfixing gaze--he got full eye contact in Columbia, SC, the night of the chickens, and couldn't break away; said it must have lasted a good thirty seconds, so he knew it's not just a 'girl' thang.)

They do 'Get Your Gunn' for the first time in a week (and I bet they'll do it in Panama City, too, probably with lots of pointy edges and intensity, since that's not too far from where some go out with their shotguns in search of abortion doctors to kill...). The night's going along at a blistering pace, all the distance and uncertainty of the beginning is gone. BUT. Tonight's gonna be another case of coitus interruptus. Daisy switches guitars for 'Dogma'--a bright cherry-red metal-flake number that I don't remember seeing before--and it starts cutting out. (Chris remembers seeing it in Myrtle Beach and sez it fucked up there too; something in the pickup, he thought.) It comes back in and goes off several times before dying completely. Daisy rushes off to change guitars--probably hoping to do it before the Rev bites him or goes ballistic. Too late. The good mood Manson has worked himself into slips, and for just a second I get a flash of blind red rage--not at Daisy, but at the fact that his carefully constructed creation is being torn apart by one silly thing. Frustration and anger. And at this point--he's folded into his gargoyle position, whipping his head from side to side, all teeth, chattering maniacally, the microphone hanging down beside his boot--you could not pay me to touch him. Not for anything. He's crazed hell-thing incarnate. It's contained almost as soon as it appears--he finishes out the song sans guitar as Daisy's still fighting to get hooked back up. Daisy gets back onstage, hits a chord just as the mike stand goes flying through the drum kit. Manson picks up the stand and just starts beating on the drums, then throws it again; Ginger jumps in to help with the destruction, Madonna gets his licks in, Twiggy turns and leaves...and Daisy's standing there, with a kind of 'hey guys, I'm ready to play now' look on his face. Manson strides off, Frankie in hot pursuit (with an expression that said it all: 'not again' and 'why oh why do I have to babysit the weirdos?'). Daisy shrugs, unplugs the guitar, and walks off. The night's over.

I headed for the back, found a good vantage point, and watched. Ran (literally) into Daisy. Twiggy showed up shortly afterwards and they spent almost the whole of Danzig's set--they cut out four songs from the end, came back for the last two, and vanished during the encore--standing at the bar, signing autographs and talking to fans. (I saw one girl, probably 14 or 15, who'd been hanging on Twiggy's every word--he'd even patted her on the head--standing by the door later, staring at the scrap Twiggy had signed and sighing deeply...I swear there were little pink hearts floating over her head.)

Saw a spooky kid here tonight, probably branded early in life as one of the town freaks. Odd looking, too pale, too thin, eyes too intense--had dyed black hair shaved on the sides, too much black lipstick and eye makeup. He had both ears pierced several times, and a chain run ear-to-ear from the bottom hoop in each one, under his chin--it hung down to about his collarbone. Black nail polish, fingerless gloves, and a military-issue shirt (far from new) completed the picture. Looking like this in Knoxville must take a LOT of nerve. He was down front (Twiggy's side) for the Mansons, and the Reverend spent a good amount of time singing to him, when he wasn't parked on our side. I watched from my perch as the kid exited the club, clutching one of those water bottles the Rev's so free at lobbing around. He looked like tonight had been a MAJOR happening...

I did see Twiggy get carded at the bar, too; the girl working it didn't really look up and didn't realize he was with the band. He was obligingly handing over his ID when she looked up and caught on. They had a good laugh over it once she recovered from her embarrassment.

Knoxville set list: Cake And Sodomy; Cyclops; Snake Eyes And Sissies; Dope Hat; Get Your Gunn; Organ Grinder; Sweet Dreams; Dogma

The well-dressed Spooky Kids: The Rev - we've gone back to the usual ensemble, with the opera gloves (man oh man, I LOVE those things! They look SO great on him!), 'ANTI' in red over the left eye. Twiggy - pink dress tonight; he's got some of his hair fastened up and back, so it fans out behind his head - kinda hard to describe, but very attractive on him. Glitter under the eyes, only one eyebrow - went from low on his right temple, up and across his forehead to the center of the hairline, then down, just enough to notice. Lipstick (black with lipliner with red lipstick effect) put on pretty neatly, then drawn back in a thick line to his left ear. The whole sight's odd, but strangely balanced. Daisy - black t-shirt with something on it in blue & green, shreddo silvery pants (they match the shirt from last night) over the green leather ones (and where DO you find bright green leather pants, anyway?). Madonna - white short-sleeved dress shirt--I kid you not. Otherwise, not much different. Ginger - same as Myrtle Beach.

Tonight's Holy Scripture from the good Reverend: "Any man who takes on the raiments of women shall be an abomination..." ..meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. White's little abomination pogos gleefully behind him... (Looked it up. It's Deuteronomy 22:5 ? "The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment; for all that do so are abominations unto the Lord thy God." Gee, guess we're all in trouble now...)

--coyote--