It's been months since I posted on this blog. I've been a little busy writing for a job now. Or it will be a job when I get payed in a month and a half.
Anyhow, I've come back to rant. Because let's face it, I'm an exceptionally good ranter. Not so sure I'm a great problem solver or diplomat, but I kick ass at ranting. And because it's timely, and because I live at the epicenter of the mania, I'm gonna rant a bit about Burning Man rhetoric.
Now in case you haven't heard, there's been a lot of media coverage (for example...) on the super wealthy descending on Burning Man--the high techies, the Hollywood heartthrobs, the Wall Street republicans--both on the offense and the defense.
Despite a staunch middle class background, I fall squarely on the less wealthy side of the present "class war" and find most events that require high down payments almost automatically unappealing. Not just Burning Man, but Outside Lands, and season tickets to the opera, too. High price tags, in my mind, can be equated to the diminished the diversity of any event; effectively excluding many fascinating people, thus breeding homogeneity.
But that's neither here nor there. Just because something's not my cuppa tea, doesn't mean I should get annoyed at people for liking what they like. From what I hear--having never been--Burning Man sounds like a wonderland of art and intrigue.
That's it, though. It's a giant party that is impressive and beautiful and fun. And I'm sure there are experiences that one can only have at Burning Man. Experiences that create visceral memories and feelings. Moments where humanity seems altogether better than one experiences in daily life.
Please, though, can we stop there? Can we try really hard not to get all existential?
Because that's where you lose me.
Burning Man doesn't make people nicer, or better, or more thoughtful outside of Burning Man. I've known lots of people who've been to Burning Man, some many times. They love it. But they don't come back and start donating more money to the less fortunate. They don't give up buying expensive clothes or going to ritzy restaurants because turns out that's not the important stuff in life. They don't re-examine their politics or their views on society as a whole.
I know lots of folks who've made life-long friends at Burning Man, but they don't return and try to expand the nature of their friend groups at home. They're not changed people, and they're not changing the world. They're just people. People who love the playa.
I think it's great that people enjoy Burning Man, even though I have no interest in going. Just the idea of the heat and the crowds and the costumes make me cringe. It's not for me.
But I'm totally ok that people love the annual community party on the playa. I do wish, however, and I wish hard, that people would stop claiming that what happens in Black Rock City makes a difference to what happens outside of Black Rock City. It's a bit egotistical and self-centered, no? Pretty much the antithesis of the Burning Man ethos. Or maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. Afterall, I've never been to Burning Man.
Anyhow, I've come back to rant. Because let's face it, I'm an exceptionally good ranter. Not so sure I'm a great problem solver or diplomat, but I kick ass at ranting. And because it's timely, and because I live at the epicenter of the mania, I'm gonna rant a bit about Burning Man rhetoric.
Now in case you haven't heard, there's been a lot of media coverage (for example...) on the super wealthy descending on Burning Man--the high techies, the Hollywood heartthrobs, the Wall Street republicans--both on the offense and the defense.
Despite a staunch middle class background, I fall squarely on the less wealthy side of the present "class war" and find most events that require high down payments almost automatically unappealing. Not just Burning Man, but Outside Lands, and season tickets to the opera, too. High price tags, in my mind, can be equated to the diminished the diversity of any event; effectively excluding many fascinating people, thus breeding homogeneity.
But that's neither here nor there. Just because something's not my cuppa tea, doesn't mean I should get annoyed at people for liking what they like. From what I hear--having never been--Burning Man sounds like a wonderland of art and intrigue.
That's it, though. It's a giant party that is impressive and beautiful and fun. And I'm sure there are experiences that one can only have at Burning Man. Experiences that create visceral memories and feelings. Moments where humanity seems altogether better than one experiences in daily life.
Please, though, can we stop there? Can we try really hard not to get all existential?
Because that's where you lose me.
Burning Man doesn't make people nicer, or better, or more thoughtful outside of Burning Man. I've known lots of people who've been to Burning Man, some many times. They love it. But they don't come back and start donating more money to the less fortunate. They don't give up buying expensive clothes or going to ritzy restaurants because turns out that's not the important stuff in life. They don't re-examine their politics or their views on society as a whole.
I know lots of folks who've made life-long friends at Burning Man, but they don't return and try to expand the nature of their friend groups at home. They're not changed people, and they're not changing the world. They're just people. People who love the playa.
I think it's great that people enjoy Burning Man, even though I have no interest in going. Just the idea of the heat and the crowds and the costumes make me cringe. It's not for me.
But I'm totally ok that people love the annual community party on the playa. I do wish, however, and I wish hard, that people would stop claiming that what happens in Black Rock City makes a difference to what happens outside of Black Rock City. It's a bit egotistical and self-centered, no? Pretty much the antithesis of the Burning Man ethos. Or maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. Afterall, I've never been to Burning Man.
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