Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Nearly 68,000 Happy Campers Celebrate Burning Man 2013 In Nevada's Black Rock Desert...

Over sixty thousand folk from all over the world converged on Nevada's Black Rock Desert for the twenty seventh annual Burning Man Festival.
Each year at the end of August the most enormous campsite is constructed far from civilisation and the thousands of Burning Man devotees come for a week to experience art, music and the unique community that the opportunity provides. And each year the whole area is meticulously cleaned of all rubbish by a group working the whole area shoulder to shoulder leaving the desert deserted of any human visitations.
The Flying Tortoise would have fun there...

Posted by Picasa


  1. I must admit to having been tempted. A bunch of my friends even tossed the idea around a bit. However, I am more of a waters and mountains guy than desert rat. Bit hot, dry and dusty for my tastes. Still . . .

  2. Allow me to toss a wet blanket over your burning fantasy.

    After talking with many BM attendees through the years, It's clear to me that while the fetching photos of art installations and promise of festing pleasures abound, the reality of the scene is somewhat different:

    - It's expensive to attend, both in terms of ticket price (yes, tickets are required) and travel. It's out in the middle of nowhere, remember?

    - It's HELLISHLY HOT. No shit, it's a desert, and there's no water and no shade, right?

    - The wind is relentless. Remembering the classic BM photo of some guy ducking down as some other guy's tent flies over his head.

    - It's dusty as crap. The stupid playa dust clings to and gets into everything, and it's alkali, so it corrodes whatever it touches.

    - It's a cacophony of noise. Rave stages, cars, trucks, motorcycles, rocket sleds, stuff blowing up, people screaming, loud music, etc, etc, etc. No privacy.

    - It's unsustainable. How many hundreds of thousands of gallons of petroleum fuels are used to travel (and burn stuff)?

    Blah, blah, etc. I decided very early on that it wasn't my kind of party. In fact, for a number of years, I held the concurrent anti-burning man celebration by traveling a short distance in my Housetruck to a nearby hot springs resort, where I would soak among the trees and knock back strong drinks while listening to the river run outside my window, all the while imagining all those festival-goers baking to a crisp out in the desert.

    Yeah, I like the desert, but not in late August, and not along with 59,9999 other people. If I want a desert experience, I'll go in late spring by myself, or with a few close friends. I guess there'd still be playa dust, though....

    1. Haha Mr Sharkey you are such a wonderful spoil sport and yes a realist too.
      It would be hot as hell out there.
      A great place for a cool wet blanket...

  3. Is that THE "Mr Sharkey". Pleasure to "meet" you. I feel so inadequate, and a boy amongst men.

    I wanted to experience BM myself, but now I think I'll pass as well.

  4. I have to agree with Mr. Sharkey, especially about the fuel/sustainability issue. I used to be interested in BM, but no more. I suspect that the creative energy that goes into it is a dissipation of creativity that ought to go into building a more beautiful society right here at home, not splurged out in the desert. It's permitted because it does not make a significant difference to the way society operates. It's a safety valve.

    Sorry to be a party-pooper on this one. I'll try to make up for it.

  5. No, I'm just "A" Mr. Sharkey, havent you heard, I come in 6-packs now...

    After posting above, I couldn't resist going back and finding John Labovitz's post from a couple of years back describing his short BM experience. I met him for the first time about a week after that writing, and he just confirmed everything I had already felt about the event. Most eloquent is his statement: "Perhaps we need a boundary between the mundane and the magical. When the ritual becomes regular, when the secret is constantly spoken, sacred space becomes the common ground. Heaven rises, again, to be just barely reachable, only on the most special of days."