Share on Google Plus Share on Twitter Share on Facebook Share on LinkedIn Share on PInterest Share on Reddit Share on StumbleUpon Tell A Friend
Printer Friendly Page Save As Favorite View Favorites View Article Stats
No comments

OpEdNews Op Eds

Burning Man: The Good & the Bad (and the Evil Twin)

By (about the author)     Permalink       (Page 1 of 1 pages)
Related Topic(s): ; ; ; ; , Add Tags Add to My Group(s)

View Ratings | Rate It

Become a Fan
  (1 fan)

opednews.com

On the way to the annual Burning Man art and fire festival out in the Nevad desert, I stopped in Reno and discovered the Sad Truth about slot machines. They aren't any fun any more. THERE ARE NO MORE 25-CENT SLOTS! Now you just insert your credit card and the machine prints out a ticket if you win. Why waste time plunking in the quarters and pulling the handle and hearing that fabulous ching-ching-ching that announces to the world that "You are a Winner"? No more fun for you! Now your money goes directly from your bank to theirs. It's all very corporate. It eliminates the middle man you.

I think that Diebold's voting machines have done the same thing too. They have eliminated the voter -- you.

At Bruno's Last Chance Saloon your last chance to get real food and use real rest rooms before entering the Burning Man desert they actually had 25-cent slot-machines. I lost a whole roll of quarters but felt that I had triumphed over Corporate America just the same.

Arriving at Burning Man in the middle of a sandstorm white-out was really intimidating. Ghost-like men and women dressed like extras from the old "Road Warrior" film moved past me like shadows on a Hiroshima wall. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. All I wanted to do was go home! Burning Man was bringing out the worst in me. Disgust and fear. "Burning Man will change you forever," said my son -- and it had. It had unleashed my evil twin.

Thank goodness I had brought my burka. In the middle of a sandstorm, it is THE fashion statement to have. I never thought I'd say that.

Finally, after the wind died, I was able to set up my tent right next door to what appeared to be a yuppie 30-something version of a 24-hour strip show. "Turn off that noise and get a life!" I screamed at about 2 am. This is what these guys do when their mothers aren't around? I want to go home!


There is NO internet here. Unless you are an internet junkie like me, you have no idea how much that sucks eggs.

My glasses are coated with fine white dust. EVERYTHING is coated with fine white dust. No place to brush your teeth. No place to pee. I want to go home! Then I ran into some really nice man and he showed me Black Rock City and Burning Man through his eyes. "It's all about community," he said. "People here really work at being friendly and helpful and kind." Kind is good. I started looking more closely. People smiled at me. I smiled back. That never happens in downtown America.

"I think the other reason that people come here," the man continued, "is because they missed out on the 1960s and this is like another Woodstock." You mean the young adults today actually CRAVE the idealism and hopefulness and war-resistance of the 1960s? I guess they do. There are 43,000 people here. At $250 a pop.

Then the sun went down. And the terrible world of heat and dust and "The Road Warrior" disappeared and a magical festival of lights came out. Up above me, I could actually see the Milky Way for the first time since I was a child. A procession of medieval lamplighters glided silently by, lighting all the kerosene lamps. All the bicycles have colored rainbow lights on them as they go by. Various theme camps glow in the dark. Hummm.... Maybe I WILL stay another day at Burning Man....

 

Stillwater is a freelance writer who hates injustice and corruption in any form but especially injustice and corruption paid for by American taxpayers. She has recently published a book entitled, "Bring Your Own Flak Jacket: Helpful Tips For Touring (more...)
 
Share on Google Plus Submit to Twitter Add this Page to Facebook! Share on LinkedIn Pin It! Submit to Reddit Submit to Stumble Upon

The views expressed in this article are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of this website or its editors.

Writers Guidelines

Contact Author Contact Editor View Authors' Articles

Most Popular Articles by this Author:     (View All Most Popular Articles by this Author)

My trip to North Korea: Pictures worth a thousand words?

Exponential happiness: McCain, Obama, Chekhov & my 93-year-old aunt

200 Concubines: In India, it's hard not to think about sex!

Our dual-citizenship Congress: Lotsa pork for Israelis, no pork for California?

Google Earth: Gaza has now gone dark too....

The world's youngest profession: The sociology of a child prostitute village in India

Comments

The time limit for entering new comments on this article has expired.

This limit can be removed. Our paid membership program is designed to give you many benefits, such as removing this time limit. To learn more, please click here.

Comments: Expand   Shrink   Hide  
No comments