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Thursday, September 25, 2008

If It Smells Like Onion

I don't know T.B. Leek, whether or not that this is the writer's true name, and if this is posted elsewhere and if so where, not having looked for it, but I got this from my online buddy and part-time hero Bartcop.


American Dream In The Desert: A Burning Man Report
by T.B. Leek

A Caveat By Way Of Introduction

This piece is especially daunting, as I am attempting to describe an event that must be experienced to be understood.

People who attended Burning Man tried for years to describe it to me; the result was typically various permutations of Keanau Reeves saying, “Whoa”. Until I finally experienced the “Whoa” for myself, I had no earthly clue what they were talking about.

I think the best way to describe the thing is to break it down as much as possible, without over-embellishing on what it all means – although I’m prone to embellishment...we’ll see how it goes.

I should add that this is one person’s interpretation of what Burning Man is about. If reality is an aggregate of our collective perceptions; this is Burning Man as viewed through my window. Some Burners (as Burning Man attendees call themselves) may agree with my observations, others may not.

If you haven’t experienced a burn, hopefully, this piece will give you inspiration to see if for yourself.

The Setting

Burning Man is held, annually, in a stretch of desert northeast of Reno, Nevada; it runs from Monday throughMonday, concluding on Labor Day.

The desert area is commonly referred to as The Playa. “La playa”, in Spanish, means “the beach.” The Playa is very much like the beach…if that beach were on the moon. The surface is (usually) dry,hard and cracked – much like pictures of the Martian landscape – a place totally devoid of moisture. As a visitor, you are ripped out of your everyday head space, almost immediately, upon arrival in this other-worldly terrain.

This year The Playa lived up to its name, as two year’s worth of sub-average winter precipitation left the surface loose, like an actual beach. This made transportation by bike (the preferred mode) tedious at best.

The loose surface also made conditions ripe for dust storms when the winds picked up. 50-80 mph wind gusts are not uncommon and can last for hours. Two days this year there were white-out conditions for most of the daylight hours.

Survival

One can’t really be too upset at the conditions; this is a desert, after all.

As my fellow Burner Chris points out, “A lot of people forget that this is as much a survival event as it is a party.”

Meaning, ‘you could die’.

Everyone who comes must bring with them the basic tools to survive: shelter, food and water. Most people take the shelter challenge to the extreme, building elaborate dwellings. This may lull the uninitiated into a false sense of security. Make no mistakes, however: Mother Nature is the boss here and she will seriously fuck you up if you do not prepare… …or maybe even if you do prepare.

Our camp’s dwelling consists of eight portable car ports, joined together to form an enclosed ‘U’. The individual tents are pitched around the outside of the ‘U’, with the center being an open, covered common space. This provides sanctuary from the burning daytime sun and dust storms.

The guys who organize our camp have been doing this for years. I would call them experts. They ensured that all the components of our dwelling place were securely fastened to each other and to the ground. The poles were secured to the ground by hammering re-bar a foot into the ground, then fastening each pole to the re-bar with rope and/or electrical tape.

Still, on Monday, as fifteen of us took shelter from a white-out, our shade structure was lifted by the winds. Half of it sheared off from the rest and was tossed like a child’s toy several feet over into the neighboring theme camp. Even the half that didn’t get ripped apart was moved a foot from its original position.

One could literally see the collective shift down Maslow’s scale by all of us involved, as higher comforts were ripped away and the need for basic shelter became once again the prime motivation.

As scary as it was, no one was hurt. In fact, we all felt alive in a way one rarely does as an urban dweller. An esprit de corps formed instantly as we worked together to overcome this monumental setback.

Before the storm... ...and after

The City

On the face of The Playa is erected a city, comprised of the various encampments, art installations, etc. Its name is Black Rock City, Nevada. For the one week of the year it exists, it is one of Nevada’s largest municipalities.

Black Rock City is, in many ways, like any other. It has organized streets – a hub and spokes system. The streets are positioned by the Burning Man organizers, prior to the arrival of the city’s residents.

The map is a clock, with The Man in the center. The cross-streets radiate out from The Man and are named for the time corresponding to their position on the clock. Another set of streets ring the outside of the clock face in concentric circles. The streets are alphabetically named, with the exception of the first ring, which is always known as The Esplanade. The alpha street names change each year to correspond to the theme for the year’s event.

This year’s theme was “The American Dream.” All of the streets were named after cars (I took this to be a cheeky and/or snarky commentary on the American dream, by the organizers). Our camp was located on Fairlaine between 8:00 and 8:30. Every theme camp is placed by the organizers into their street address around the city, which makes navigation quite easy.

Besides a well-engineered road system the city has: a post office (fully functional with its own zip code); a radio station; a police force (known as the Black Rock City Rangers); medical stations; a department of motor vehicles; and, an airport. The Burning Man organization sets up one central camp in the roundabout at 6:30. Center Camp offers a common space for lounging, as well as stages for music,performance pieces and topical discussions.

The theme camps fill in the city. There are cafes, bars, nightclubs, galleries, etc. There is also a full spate of activities sponsored by various camps. A guidebook is provided to locate each day’s events.

For example, our theme camp is Fairyland. We sponsored three events over the course of three days, e.g. building fairy wings, making tutus.

The sheer scope of the city is one of the hardest things to explain to someone who hasn’t been there.

Imagine a nomadic tribe of 50,000 people stopping to camp on a desert plane. The encampment goes on for 10 miles. At night torches blaze and there is laughter and merriment all around.

Now imagine the same thing on acid. The people wear colorful day-glo or post-apocalyptic costumes – sometime lit up with twinkly lights, after dark. At night there is neon everywhere (o.k. for this, one need only think of another Nevada metropolis, Las Vegas).

Everywhere you turn, there is something to amaze a sense…or two…or three. It is Mad Max,
Alice in Wonderland and The Beatle’s Yellow Submarine come to life.

Black Rock City Map, 2008

Making wings in Fairyland

It’s A Little Bit Marxist…

In Black Rock City, no money is exchanged (except in two limited situations – there is a coffee bar in Central Camp and there are three camps named Arctica, where one can buy ice; these are controlled by the Burning Man Organization).

For example, if your theme camp is a bar, then you bring in all the supplies necessary to run it.
Patrons are served at no additional cost to themselves.

Gifts are given by camps and individuals to their fellow burners. Gifting is the community standard.

Each person does what they can to contribute to the community. Each person is rewarded for their membership in the community by the other members of the community.

…And A Little Bit Capitalist

But only in the best of ways.

Labor is divided so that no individual bears the brunt of building the community. If your neighbor needs help, you help them. If you need help, chances are someone will be there to lend a hand.

A healthy competitive environment exists in Black Rock City, as well – not in the sense that you screw someone over to get ahead, but in the sense that people see what others have done and strive to do something a little bit better for the betterment of the community. The reward for their efforts is the pride they get when others in the community say, “Nice job”.

Innovation and progress are the norms in Black Rock City.

“A World of Pure Imagination”

Imagination is the cornerstone of innovation and Black Rock City lives on imagination -- as in,
“let’s imagine a city where there isn’t one and build it.”

It starts with the individual. The citizens of Black Rock express their imaginations in their dress.
They wear colorful outfits and costumes. Everything around them becomes an expression of
themselves – their bikes, their camps, etc.

Art is an essential part of the Burning Man experience – often on a very grand scale. The open playa in the center of the city is one gigantic art exhibition. The only large vehicles that can be operated within the city are ‘art cars’ – rolling pieces of visual expression.

For example, my favorite art car, this year, was a giant, rolling disco called The Magic Duck (at least thatis what we called it – sometimes one doesn’t find out the artist’s name for a piece and you call it what you will). Built on the base of a reticulated bus, the main cabin and top of the bus were converted into dance space and a DJ booth. At the front, a giant rubber-ducky head, mirrored like a yellow disco ball towered over the desert. The duck had a comb of flaming jets on its scalp and laser beams shot out of its eyes. It rolled about the playa, stopping every now-and-then as people swarmed about it to dance inside and out. Then it would pick up and move to its next location, with people following in-tow on bike and on foot.

Art in Black Rock City is meant to be experienced: to be touched, played on and, even, burned (if the artist so chooses). It is not fenced up in a tomb-like building and guarded by humorless sentinels, whilst serving as a self-serving advertisement for some wealthy patron or another.

Black Rock City has its own arts foundation, funded by donations from Burners and non-Burners alike. Grants are bestowed on artists to underwrite the huge amounts of time and money they put into their work. The Arts Foundation also installs Playa art pieces in exhibition around the country, for all to appreciate (those that aren’t burned, of course). Corporations, from the outside, are welcome to fund artists, but they are not allowed to emblazon the finished products with their logos in self-congratulation.

In the end, beauty is temporal. What could be more temporal than burning one’s work after it has been beheld?

Sculpture


The Magic Duck


A Pagan Place

The star of the show, from which the event takes its name, is known simply as The Man. The man is a sculpture of wood, lined with neon sitting atop a structure in the center of the city. He is literally at the city’s heart and figuratively its soul.

And every year, on Saturday night, he is burned as the city’s citizens cavort around him.

The pagan overtones of this ritual are evident (and here I’m speaking of primitive ritual, not of
neo-pagan traditions, such as Wicca).

The story goes like this: the willing servant offers himself for sacrifice by and for the community.
Prior to the sacrifice he or she (he in this case) is treated like a god. In traditions practicing regicide, he actually was the head of state and entitled to the wealth and privilege. Whether prince or pauper, in the end he goes to his death and with him takes all the bad energy from the community, leaving the community to prosper in the period until the next offering.

This ritual plays out much less barbarically, when the willing victim is a sculpture and not an actual human.

On Saturday night, the community gathers round The Man (the art cars form a circular perimeter, with the community on the inside). A procession of fire bearers parade and dance around his base. Finally, his arms raise above his head to signal his willingness as a sacrifant. Fireworks erupt and propane explosions trigger his immolation. The crowd erupts into jubilant cheers. There is much hugging, dancing and carrying-on.

The community is renewed for another year.

The Man watches over the city

The Man burns

Spirituality, However You Find It

While the burning of The Man may have pagan undertones, spirituality of all stripes is present within the community.

Each year a structure is built directly above the man (as one would travel towards 12:00 on the clock) referred to generically as The Temple. Like The Man and the festival, The Temple has different themes each year.

It is a non-denominational center for communing with the universe. One may be as a believer in the divine or not believe in anything – it stands as a place to reflect on one’s self and one’s place in the greater design.

The Temple is second only to The Man as a hallmark of the city, which further symbolizes the underlying spiritual convictions of the community.

And as you probably guessed, The Temple is burned too.

In contrast to the revelry when The Man burns, burning The Temple is a solemn affair: the community gathers round the Temple; someone sings a hymn; the fire is lit without fanfare. As the flames rise, people may shout out names of those who have passed, but most silently watch as the structure is engulfed. When it falls, the crowd disperses quietly.

The American Dream

As I previously mentioned, Burning Man 2008’s theme was, “The American Dream.” Some Burners questioned this thematic choice on the part of the organizers. In a ratio probably larger than the generalAmerican populace, many of us are not happy with the current state of our country.

I think the theme was entirely apropos.

America was founded by dreamers – dreamers who were inspired by philosophers – the most optimum dreamers of all.

America’s forefathers were students of the greatest Western intellectual minds of the time, such as Locke and Bacon – men who believed that all men exist in a state of nature and that society should exist to protectthe individual and uplift the human experience.

This is, in fact, the kind of community that Black Rock City is. The rules are entered into freely by the individualand exist to maintain order and safety – not to stifle expression or force a single morality down the throats of everyone.

Of course, Black Rock City does not exist in a vacuum – the city is still subject to the laws of the land on which it sits. However, for the week of its existence, it embodies the promise of what could be.

Systems Theory posits that, “every thing is related to everything else.” Every group of people, every organization,every country has a direct effect on every other group, organization and country and the effect is reciprocal.

The people who create and experience Black Rock City bring its promise back to the systems in which they operate every day: schools, businesses, churches, governmental agencies, community organizations, etc. They carry with them the knowledge that society really can live up to the dreams of our America’s founders and their mentors. Like pathogens of hope, they infect their systems with the promise that society can work for the betterment of the human condition, despite and because of the diversity of its individual members.

If there is anything that can be learned from the current political season, it is that people still believe in hope. People still dream The Founders’ dream – even if that dream has been corrupted by the moralists and the greedy corporatists.

Yes, America was built by dreamers and it is time for the dreamers to take it back.

That is this Burner’s American Dream.

The author, after the burn

2 comments:

tbl92666 said...

I wrote this article for Bartcop. He asked me to write it. Why does it smell like Onion? Do you think it is a parody, as per "The Onion"? It isn't. If Bart's a good friend of yours, why didn't you just ask him if it was real?

Iago de Otto said...

It's almost late in the game. I should have responed to your comment much earlier, but when clicking through to the AOL site you link to, I don't know how to get in touch with you.

In fact, I don't know how you even knew that I had posted your article from Bartcop onto Chaos Chasm II. Anyway, my bad. The day that I read your article on Burning Man this year, I had been sleepless and restless for a few days and was a bit frazzled. I had originally intended to preface with some sort of "intelligent" comment before pasting your article, and the bit about the onion smell had nothing to do with "The Onnion" (which is some pretty funny shit), I was not thinking along those lines at all. Actually, I was absolutely floored by your report, it is totally awesome. My remarks about the onion smell had more to do with a wandering and unfocused mind and the notion that I was uncertain that Leek is the true moniker of the author.

I hope that you get this comment in response to your comment somehow through the magic of the Multiverse in the same manner that you became privy to my blog in the first place.

So, I apologize for unintentionally misleading you regarding my feelings about what you wrote. God's tooth, I am totally in love with what you say in the article.