Tuesday, August 28th

It's inescapable. The news of The Man's untimely burn last night has swept, rippled and gushed through Black Rock like a tsunami. Not in the least because the tall wooden statue, clad in green neon, is usually visible from almost every vantage point in the city. This morning however, he resembles more a black, charred and crispy imitation of his former self.



Media Mecca is packed when I arrive, and they even have a news ticker set up, announcing that The Man burned for a whole 23 minutes, and Paul David Addis, a San Francisco-based artist, has been arrested in connection with the arson. Thanks to the city's (unreliable and weak, but nonetheless existing) WiFi network, bloggers and journalists are busy leaking the news into the Default World. There is Brian Doherty in a corner, feverishly tapping away at his laptop for Wired, and I run into my AP buddy Brad, who is crying into his beer because he slept through the entire ordeal. I comfort him by telling him that while I was there, I didn't have my camera with me. So - which is worse, exactly?

As for myself (and because enough people have asked my opinion already): I'm all for anarchy, folks. But I still feel the arsonist is an asshole and his action was a giant "fuck you" to all Black Rock citizens. Mostly because hardly any of the almost 50,000 attendants got to see the Green Technology exhibit in the pavilion below The Man, as it had to close during the rebuild. Many people had poured months of hard work, brain power and tons of money into those exhibits - not to mention the poor DPW workers who now had to spend days in the heat, rebuilding The Man. I for one would have loved to see the exhibits and learn from them - but I never got the chance. So not cool.



Otherwise though - business goes on as usual. Black Rock's citizens don't seem to be too concerned that this will impact the event much - and they are certainly not going to let this dampen their spirit or fun. While strolling around Center Camp and picking up snippets of random conversations, I get the sense that they have faith that The Man will be resurrected in time for the Saturday Burn - and that's really all that matters.



After swinging by the Crispy Man and taking a few shots, I return to the city, stopping off by the BRC Post Office on my way. I bribe a grumpy postal worker into sending out a postcard, and he persuades me to play postal delivery girl for a few pieces of mail. Hey, why not? Right? "Don't give up your mail without demanding a bribe or in the very least harassing the recipient", he advises me with a sly grin. "Oh, and don't deliver mail to Spike's before dusk - those guys don't appear before nightfall anyway ..." Hahaha. Tell me something I don't know...



My first mail delivery goes to the Necklace Factory. To get his envelope, the nice Southern man there bribes me with a dust mask, a battery-powered mini fan, and a candle in the shape of a corn cobb. Uhmmm... thanks? Second stop is Silk City. They offer me either some playa bling - or a copy of Shel Silverman's 'Where the Sidewalk Ends'. Renee gets all excited when she sees the book and urges me to go for that. I do - and indeed... good choice. Funny stuff.



It's simmering hot this afternoon, with absolutely no breeze. So napping in the tent is not an option. Luckily, there is relief in sight. There is a silver Chill Dome at Conexus, only about half a block away from my camp - with a swamp cooler, blowing cold air across the pillow-and-mattress-covered floor. Hurray! I lay down amidst a bunch of people, and nap for a few hours, until the worst of the heat is over.

I decide tonight to strike out on my own. First stop is Spike's, where I deliver my mail, and hang out for a while. As every year though, The Temple magically draws me to it. And as much as I try and stay away from it (because I know how much it affects me), I can't resist it. So I sit by the Temple, read the words of grief and remembrance people have written on its columns and surfaces, and think about the people in my life I love and miss. Those I wish were still with me, and those I wish could be here with me right now. And when I can't stand it anymore, I bike out into the deep playa to be alone...

Another great blog, S. Sweet :)