I haven't been to Burning Man in years, but even over the three years where I religiously trekked to the desert with my gallons of water, I saw things change. Black Rock City was initially a place of exploration. Fantastical artwork, endless activities, loud music, instantaneous friendships... a mythical environment that one can only understand with their own flesh and blood. Branding and money has no place in
BRC, but somehow the ego still found its way in the larger the party got. And the thirst that was quenched by a week of selflessness soon left a sour taste in my mouth. Here's what the city, once an empty desert, looks like during the festival from Google Map. Astounding....
In the center of the civilization is The Man, who stands with his arms down until the day of the Burn. Not this year. This year some selfish San
Franciscian mentalist burnt the man four days before the festival was set to alight the structure. The burning of the man is symbolic of whatever you need it to be symbolic of: a release the past, an enlightenment for the future, a chance to breathe deep and dance wildly. Apparently it was more important for this actor/writer in the San Francisco arts scene, who perhaps took his recently portrayal of
Hunter S. Thompson in a play too seriously, to take this away from the 10,000+ citizens of the temporary city of Black Rock City. As much as I'm over the
neuvo-hippie fest and it's pseudo-lovey self-importance, I couldn't help but feel sad for the Burners, those who had traveled far and paid considerable money to be in
BRC only to have this moment taken from them. I'm sure they'll turn it into yet another anti-establishment statement.
In the center of the civilization is The Man, who stands with his arms down until the day of the Burn. Not this year. This year some selfish San Franciscian mentalist burnt the man four days before the festival was set to alight the structure. The burning of the man is symbolic of whatever you need it to be symbolic of: a release the past, an enlightenment for the future, a chance to breathe deep and dance wildly. Apparently it was more important for this actor/writer in the San Francisco arts scene, who perhaps took his recently portrayal of Hunter S. Thompson in a play too seriously, to take this away from the 10,000+ citizens of the temporary city of Black Rock City. As much as I'm over the neuvo-hippie fest and it's pseudo-lovey self-importance, I couldn't help but feel sad for the Burners, those who had traveled far and paid considerable money to be in BRC only to have this moment taken from them. I'm sure they'll turn it into yet another anti-establishment statement.
