It’s been a rough winter.
So, for now, this abandoned Pellie being taught to fly with a GoPro on his nose is the best I’ve got for a heart song.
All you Kanye West haters.
Everyone who can’t seem to separate who this hard to take, jutted-out jaw of a person is… from what he makes; try to imagine that someone else – someone you respect – said this in response to an interviewer’s question.
INTERVIEWER (Director Steve McQueen): ….there’s really no amount of money that could make you more influential than you are now. So my question is: What are you going to do with all of the influence that you have right now?
WEST: Well, influence isn’t my definition of success-it’s a by-product of my creativity. I just want to create more. I would be fine with making less money. I actually spend the majority of my money attempting to create more things. Not buying things or solidifying myself or trying to make my house bigger, or trying to show people how many Louis Vuitton bags I can get, or buying my way to a good seat at the table. My definition of success, again, is getting my ideas out there.
Now maybe that’s an answer honed by a cat that spends many of his waking hours interviewing himself in every mirrored surface he finds but… come on, that’s a pretty fuckin’ good answer.
Take a bow, you magnificent mental patient!
Usually I just offer up my end of the year list as tribute to Listophilis, the ancient god of organizing stuff into lists, and possibly syphilis?
Just throw that shit into the mouth of the disinterested volcano that is internet and sleep better that night.
This year; sure I’m doin’ all that but also – more so – I’m sending this half way around the world to someone.
It’s been a weird year but here’s a big ol’ dump of good feeling… in 5 minute bursts.
….. and there’s more where that came from.
Does this bit of coolness really need anyone else sticking it up online?
Does anyone who doesn’t know and love Dan Harmon not know about this too?
Does everyone love rhetorical questions as much I do?
Don’t answer that.. just watch the show, it’s fun.
(As testament to just how heart-shiningly at the end of my Care Bear countdown I was feelin’, I was gonna lead with Neil Diamond’s Heartlight (Song from E.T.), which I particularly love cause Diamond wrote it as a half-whispered love letter from the little space monkey into his boy-friend Elliot’s ear, just as he’s leavin’ on a space plane.)
I’m talkin’ about a ‘buy the world a coke’, let’s all make popcorn and watch Diggstown together kind of feeling.
So…. 4, 3, 2, 1.. Care-Bears-Count-D-oh right… might’ve shown my hand a little too much there ;
(Can, and will.)
Leave it to the Local Online Advertising Conference to charge people for this.
Leave it to these people to listen to free economy, give it away advocate Seth Godin wax on about the capitalist crashing, paradigm shifting, up and coming ‘connection economy’; Seth Godin: What Should Local Media Do?
Leave it to these cats to have sought this shit out and to wake up in their airpot hotel beds all full of anticipation and kill a continental breakfast, put on their printed name tag and sit in a room for nearly an hour and be bombarded with profound nuggets and slides and pictures that somehow manage to crystallize the profound change that we’re all witnessing and the ground that’s undeniably moving beneath our feet…. and, of course, their take-away is to squeeze a little more cash out of the deal.
Shift that paradigm boys.
Shift it right into your pockets.
Last post – when I came to think about it – turned out to be the first time I had ever posted a picture of myself on the internet. Ever.
(Don’t get me wrong, other people had put pictures of me all over the place. Often tagging/alerting me, to be sure I see myself.)
I’d imagine there’s a yearly tradition involving trying to re-trace your own movements at Burning Man after the fact; like an 8-10 day version of every ‘bro’s’ favourite black-out fantasy, The 10-Day Hangover.
Side Note: Not so secretly, aren’t we all hoping we’ve thinned some of those bro numbers by having as many of these fuckwits mauled by Tigers as possible. Am I alone in waiting on the sobering statistics..?;
‘Backwards baseball cap sales took a big hit the past few years. This, in the wake of huge swaths of ‘bro’ populous being lost to fatal maulings in Hangover-inspired exotic animal kidnappings. Starter and New Era launch awareness campaign: Fellas, You Can Just Turn The Hats Around.’
I’d that imagine that tradition runs in parallel with the tradition of boring the shit out of all your friends, acquaintances, complete strangers, telemarketers… with your accounts of the seminal, ‘life changing’ bits from your Burning Man.
Anyway, here’s what I remember… listening to:
(Carrying over from previous post, Oh, It Burns..; the top 3/4 tracks were my every morning medicine.)
The studio version above is easily best but really, if only for the awesome mix n’ match, 90′s era Eagles, you gotta watch the video…;
“You can’t describe Burning Man…. not to someone who hasn’t been.”
“You’re never gonna be able to articulate what it’s about, all the aspects that make it unique, how diverse the experience can be.”
“If they’ve never been, they’re just gonna assume it’s like a Coachella or Bonnaroo… whatever fits their frame of reference.”
“You’re never gonna be able to do it justice. There’s almost no point in trying.”
That’s what everybody kept telling me while I was at Burning Man.
It was mostly first timers – like myself – reminding each other how back in the “real world” – the ‘default world’ – they won’t get it; they wouldn’t understand… man.
I think some of that’s because my Burning Man is different from your Burning Man.
Where, maybe, our mutual experience of Coachella might’ve involved seeing the same lesser known band on the second stage or, our common account of the Governor’s Ball might differ in the varying angles and proximity from which we watched a disinterested Kanye West high step through his set list but still, it’s the same song we collectively heard at the same time; a shared sing and nod-along, where we ironically chant in unison how we’re all the ‘New Slaves’, or somesuch. (They have that at Burning Man too… so, bad example.)
At Burning Man, I did an incredible, ill-advised and then incredible again, Kundalini Yoga class while micro-dosing psychadellic mushrooms; meanwhile you might’ve been observing the afternoon sex-slave auction or doing a 4pm Find Your Power Animal.
On a lazy Wednesday, I wandered into a huge tent to hear a guy pitch a new kind of communal, crowd-funded, ‘open corporation’ concept that ultimately ended with me openly crying – my hands alternately shaking – from the earnest ambition and potential of just this dude’s idea that moved me to need to speak too; and, maybe you were seeing what the camp looks like from thousands of feet up, in free fall, at the time. Maybe you were in that ‘TerrorDome’(?) thing, strapped to the roof by a bungee, about to be catapulted toward your opponent to smash a relative stranger in the face with a sock-covered floppy club. (Not my scene but, no judgement, whatever your pleasure.)
One particularly harsh morning, I DJ’d myself and others in the camp back to life with a chicken soup sequence of songs… “Knees” by Peter and Kerry; Knees – Peter & Kerry
Followed by the steadyingly simple “Something Hiding For Us In The Night” by The Wooden Sky; Something Hiding from us in the Night – The Wooden Sky
And then, the strings and weary words of Phosphorescent’s “Song For Zula” to nurse us back to our feet again; Song for Zula – Phosphorescent
And I felt like I’d done my part, a little something to gift myself, and everyone in earshot of our geodesic dome, back into being; maybe you were lining up for as much crushed ice as you could carry or, slinking out of the orgy tent at first light after writing your camp’s address on the exposed thigh of the paramedic you married last night.
I’m not here to judge. It’s not better or worse than my morning, just different.
A super tall, super cool cat in a top hat named after Ray Bradbury told me; “All the people at home are gonna want you to sum it up for them. They want the cliff notes version, the elevator pitch of Burning Man. You can’t do it. You can’t describe Burning Man to someone who hasn’t been.”
I think, maybe he’s right.
Cause any time you try to articulate what it’s like for everyone you come across to be open and interested… people leaning forward into their day, looking you square in the eye… just how jarring it is to spend whole days without cynicism and sneers when you’re used to wading through it… any time you say things like these you sound like a dick, and your judgemental monkey mind monkey sneers at you and points it out.
Also, cause I’ve been trying for a little while now and, I can’t seem to get it across. I can’t do it, and they won’t get it.
I went with 6 Aussie dudes and each of them had an entirely different ‘Burn’ from myself; 7 unique experiences that I don’t have any insight into and wouldn’t post here on pain of death, even if I did.
I just can’t describe it, y’know?
But then, you wouldn’t get it anyway.