March 26, 2009 by Bill Gould, Publisher.

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Washington DC - Indeed it is true, President Obama will be online this morning answering question during an online town hall style meeting. This continues President Obama’s path of using new technology to engage Americans that other Presidents have forgot - the tech nerd. Good job Mr President!

Be a part of the online town hall meeting here - http://www.whitehouse.gov/openforquestions/

The event starts at 1130am eastern time - that is 830am in LA for the people reading who don’t want to do the math.

***UPDATE***
The questions were brought up by the public and then voted on by the public. The president totally dodged one of the most popular questions - should we legalize marijuana and tax it to help balance the budget and redirect police resources to more awful crimes? He laughed it off and plainly said no. With the millions of Americans smoking pot, and millions of dollars spent every day on pot, and it not being taxed, what do you think? Sounds like big money in the bank for a cash strapped State of California.

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February 25, 2009 by Lance Bugle.

California - I saw this on CNN yesterday and it made me think - what the hell is wrong with our government when they would rather keep pot illegal and have the Mexican drug cartels making money when Americans could be growing and selling the pot, having jobs, making money and generating tax dollars to help fix our jacked up budget?

Check out the video and chime in with comments and tell us what you think!!

I say - LETS GROW!!

Here is more info on Ganja from a stumbleupon.com site:

The Marijuana Trick
Doug Yurchey – 2005

And I will raise up for them a plant of renown, and they shall be no more consumed with hunger in the land. – Ezekiel 34/29

Where did the word ‘marijuana’ come from? In the mid 1930s, the M-word was created to tarnish the good image and phenomenal history of the hemp plant…as you will read. The facts cited here, with references, are generally verifiable in the Encyclopedia Britannica which was printed on hemp paper for 150 years:

* All schoolbooks were made from hemp or flax paper until the 1880s; Hemp Paper Reconsidered, Jack Frazier, 1974.

* It was LEGAL TO PAY TAXES WITH HEMP in America from 1631 until the early 1800s; LA Times, Aug. 12, 1981.

* REFUSING TO GROW HEMP in America during the 17th and 18th Centuries WAS AGAINST THE LAW! You could be jailed in Virginia for refusing to grow hemp from 1763 to 1769; Hemp in Colonial Virginia, G. M. Herdon.

* George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and other founding fathers GREW HEMP; Washington and Jefferson Diaries. Jefferson smuggled hemp seeds from China to France then to America.

* Benjamin Franklin owned one of the first paper mills in America and it processed hemp. Also, the War of 1812 was fought over hemp. Napoleon wanted to cut off Moscow’s export to England; Emperor Wears No Clothes, Jack Herer.

* For thousands of years, 90% of all ships’ sails and rope were made from hemp. The word ‘canvas’ is Dutch for hemp; Webster’s New World Dictionary.

* 80% of all textiles, fabrics, clothes, linen, drapes, bed sheets, etc. were made from hemp until the 1820s with the introduction of the cotton gin.

* The first Bibles, maps, charts, Betsy Ross’s flag, the first drafts of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution were made from hemp; U.S. Government Archives.

* The first crop grown in many states was hemp. 1850 was a peak year for Kentucky producing 40,000 tons. Hemp was the largest cash crop until the 20th Century; State Archives.

* Oldest known records of hemp farming go back 5000 years in China, although hemp industrialization probably goes back to ancient Egypt.

* Rembrandt’s, Gainsborough’s, Van Gogh’s as well as most early canvas paintings were principally painted on hemp linen.

* In 1916, the U.S. Government predicted that by the 1940s all paper would come from hemp and that no more trees need to be cut down. Government studies report that 1 acre of hemp equals 4.1 acres of trees. Plans were in the works to implement such programs; Department of Agriculture

* Quality paints and varnishes were made from hemp seed oil until 1937. 58,000 tons of hemp seeds were used in America for paint products in 1935; Sherman Williams Paint Co. testimony before Congress against the 1937 Marijuana Tax Act.

* Henry Ford’s first Model-T was built to run on hemp gasoline and the CAR ITSELF WAS CONSTRUCTED FROM HEMP! On his large estate, Ford was photographed among his hemp fields. The car, ‘grown from the soil,’ had hemp plastic panels whose impact strength was 10 times stronger than steel; Popular Mechanics, 1941.

* Hemp called ‘Billion Dollar Crop.’ It was the first time a cash crop had a business potential to exceed a billion dollars; Popular Mechanics, Feb., 1938.

* Mechanical Engineering Magazine (Feb. 1938) published an article entitled ‘The Most Profitable and Desirable Crop that Can be Grown.’ It stated that if hemp was cultivated using 20th Century technology, it would be the single largest agricultural crop in the U.S. and the rest of the world.

The following information comes directly from the United States Department of Agriculture’s 1942 14-minute film encouraging and instructing ‘patriotic American farmers’ to grow 350,000 acres of hemp each year for the war effort:

‘…(When) Grecian temples were new, hemp was already old in the service of mankind. For thousands of years, even then, this plant had been grown for cordage and cloth in China and elsewhere in the East. For centuries prior to about 1850, all the ships that sailed the western seas were rigged with hempen rope and sails. For the sailor, no less than the hangman, hemp was indispensable…

…Now with Philippine and East Indian sources of hemp in the hands of the Japanese…American hemp must meet the needs of our Army and Navy as well as of our industries…

…the Navy’s rapidly dwindling reserves. When that is gone, American hemp will go on duty again; hemp for mooring ships; hemp for tow lines; hemp for tackle and gear; hemp for countless naval uses both on ship and shore. Just as in the days when Old Ironsides sailed the seas victorious with her hempen shrouds and hempen sails. Hemp for victory!’

Certified proof from the Library of Congress; found by the research of Jack Herer, refuting claims of other government agencies that the 1942 USDA film ‘Hemp for Victory’ did not exist.

Hemp cultivation and production do not harm the environment. The USDA Bulletin #404 concluded that hemp produces 4 times as much pulp as wood with at least 4 to 7 times less pollution.

From Popular Mechanics, Feb. 1938:
‘It has a short growing season…It can be grown in any state…The long roots penetrate and break the soil to leave it in perfect condition for the next year’s crop. The dense shock of leaves, 8 to 12 feet above the ground, chokes out weeds.

…hemp, this new crop can add immeasurably to American agriculture and industry.’

In the 1930s, innovations in farm machinery would have caused an industrial revolution when applied to hemp. This single resource could have created millions of new jobs generating thousands of quality products. Hemp, if not made illegal, would have brought America out of the Great Depression.

William Randolph Hearst (Citizen Kane) and the Hearst Paper Manufacturing Division of Kimberly Clark owned vast acreage of timberlands. The Hearst Company supplied most paper products. Patty Hearst’s grandfather, a destroyer of nature for his own personal profit, stood to lose billions because of hemp.

In 1937, Dupont patented the processes to make plastics from oil and coal. Dupont’s Annual Report urged stockholders to invest in its new petrochemical division. Synthetics such as plastics, cellophane, celluloid, methanol, nylon, rayon, Dacron, etc., could now be made from oil. Natural hemp industrialization would have ruined over 80% of Dupont’s business.

THE TRICKS

Andrew Mellon became Hoover’s Secretary of the Treasury and Dupont’s primary investor. He appointed his future nephew-in-law, Harry J. Anslinger, to head the Federal Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs.

Secret meetings were held by these financial tycoons. Hemp was declared dangerous and a threat to their billion dollar enterprises. For their dynasties to remain intact, hemp had to go. These men took an obscure Mexican slang word: ‘marihuana’ and pushed it into the consciousness of America.

MEDIA MANIPULATION

A media blitz of ‘yellow journalism’ raged in the late 1920s and 1930s. Hearst’s newspapers ran stories emphasizing the horrors of marihuana. The menace of marihuana made headlines. Readers learned that it was responsible for everything from car accidents to loose morality.

Films like ‘Reefer Madness’ (1936), ‘Marihuana: Assassin of Youth’ (1935) and ‘Marihuana: The Devil’s Weed’ (1936) were propaganda designed by these industrialists to create an enemy. Their purpose was to gain public support so that anti-marihuana laws could be passed.

Examine the following quotes from ‘The Burning Question’ aka REEFER
MADNESS:
*a violent narcotic.
*acts of shocking violence.
*incurable insanity.
*soul-destroying effects.
*under the influence of the drug he killed his entire family with an axe.
*more vicious, more deadly even than these soul-destroying drugs (heroin, cocaine) is the menace of marihuana!

Reefer Madness did not end with the usual ‘the end.’ The film concluded with these words plastered on the screen: TELL YOUR CHILDREN.

In the 1930s, people were very naive; even to the point of ignorance. The masses were like sheep waiting to be led by the few in power. They did not challenge authority. If the news was in print or on the radio, they believed it had to be true. They told their children and their children grew up to be the parents of the baby-boomers.

On April 14, 1937, the Prohibitive Marihuana Tax Law or the bill that outlawed hemp was directly brought to the House Ways and Means Committee. This committee is the only one that can introduce a bill to the House floor without it being debated by other committees. The Chairman of the Ways and Means, Robert Doughton, was a Dupont supporter. He insured that the bill would pass Congress.

Dr. James Woodward, a physician and attorney, testified too late on behalf of the American Medical Association. He told the committee that the reason the AMA had not denounced the Marihuana Tax Law sooner was that the Association had just discovered that marihuana was/is hemp.

Few people, at the time, realized that the deadly menace they had been reading about on Hearst’s front pages was in fact passive hemp. The AMA understood hemp to be a MEDICINE found in numerous healing products sold over the last hundred years.

In September of 1937, hemp became illegal. The most useful crop known became a drug and our planet has been suffering ever since.

Congress banned hemp because it was said to be the most violence-causing drug known. Anslinger, head of the Drug Commission for 31 years, promoted the idea that marihuana made users act extremely violent. In the 1950s, under the Communist threat of McCarthyism, Anslinger now said the exact opposite. Marijuana will pacify you so much that soldiers would not want to fight.

Today, our planet is in desperate trouble. Earth is suffocating as large tracts of rain forests disappear. Pollution, poisons and chemicals are killing people. These great problems could be reversed if we industrialized hemp. Natural biomass could provide all of the planet’s energy needs that are currently supplied by fossil fuels. We have consumed 80% of our oil and gas reserves. We need a renewable resource. Hemp could be the solution to soaring gas prices.

THE WONDER PLANT

Hemp has a higher quality fiber than wood fiber. Far fewer caustic chemicals are required to make paper from hemp than from trees. Hemp paper does not turn yellow and is very durable. The plant grows quickly to maturity in a season where trees take a lifetime.

ALL PLASTIC PRODUCTS SHOULD BE MADE FROM HEMP SEED OIL. Hempen plastics are biodegradable! Over time, they would break down and not harm the environment. Oil-based plastics, the ones we are very familiar with, help ruin nature; they do not break down and will do great harm in the future. The process to produce the vast array of natural (hempen) plastics will not ruin the rivers as Dupont and other petrochemical companies have done. Ecology does not fit in with the plans of the Oil Industry and the political machine. Hemp products are safe and natural.

MEDICINES SHOULD BE MADE FROM HEMP. We should go back to the days when the AMA supported hemp cures. ‘Medical Marijuana’ is given out legally to only a handful of people while the rest of us are forced into a system that relies on chemicals. Hemp is only healthy for the human body.

WORLD HUNGER COULD END. A large variety of food products can be generated from hemp. The seeds contain one of the highest sources of protein in nature. ALSO: They have two essential fatty acids that clean your body of cholesterol. These essential fatty acids are not found anywhere else in nature! Consuming hemp seeds is the best thing you could do for your body. Eat uncooked hemp seeds.

CLOTHES SHOULD BE MADE FROM HEMP. Hemp clothing is extremely strong and durable over time. You could hand clothing, made from hemp, down to your grandchildren. Today, there are American companies that make hemp clothing; usually 50% hemp. Hemp fabrics should be everywhere. Instead, they are almost underground. Superior hemp products are not allowed to advertise on fascist television. Kentucky, once the top hemp producing state, made it ILLEGAL TO WEAR hemp clothing! Can you imagine being thrown into jail for wearing quality jeans?

The world is crazy…but that does not mean you have to join the insanity. Get together. Spread the news. Tell people, and that includes your children, the truth. Use hemp products. Eliminate the word ‘marijuana.’ Realize the history that created it. Make it politically incorrect to say or print the M-word. Fight against the propaganda (designed to favor the agenda of the super rich) and the bullshit. Hemp must be utilized in the future. We need a clean energy source to save our planet. INDUSTRIALIZE HEMP!

The liquor, tobacco and oil companies fund more than a million dollars a day to Partnership for a Drug-Free America and other similar agencies. We have all seen their commercials. Now, their motto is: ‘It’s more dangerous than we thought.’ Lies from the powerful corporations, that began with Hearst, are still alive and well today.

The brainwashing continues. Now, the commercials say: If you buy a joint, you contribute to murders and gang wars. The latest anti-hemp commercials say: If you buy a joint…you are promoting TERRORISM! The new enemy (terrorism) has paved the road to brainwash you any way THEY see fit.

There is only one enemy; the friendly people you pay your taxes to; the war-makers and nature destroyers. With your funding, they are killing the world right in front of your eyes. HALF A MILLION DEATHS EACH YEAR ARE CAUSED BY TOBACCO. HALF A MILLION DEATHS EACH YEAR ARE CAUSED BY ALCOHOL.

Ingesting THC, hemp’s active agent, has a positive effect; relieving asthma and glaucoma. A joint tends to alleviate the nausea caused by chemotherapy. You are able to eat on hemp. This is a healthy state of being.

The hemp plant is an ALIEN plant. There is physical evidence that hemp is not like any other plant on this planet. One could conclude that it was brought here for the benefit of humanity. Hemp is the ONLY plant where the males appear one way and the females appear very different, physically! No one ever speaks of males and females in regard to the plant kingdom because plants do not show their sexes; except for hemp. To determine what sex a certain, normal, Earthly plant is: You have to look internally, at its DNA. A male blade of grass (physically) looks exactly like a female blade of grass. The hemp plant has an intense sexuality.

HEMP IS ILLEGAL BECAUSE BILLIONAIRES WANT TO REMAIN BILLIONAIRES!

Last updated 17/11/2005

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September 29, 2008 by PT Rothschild.

“IN THE WORLD, BUT NOT OF THE (DEFAULT) WORLD”

Temecula, CA – Although the title says it all, the tear and the accompanying ‘lump in the throat’ actually came on Friday morning, two days before we left. The words ‘Burning Man’ are constantly in the air (along with the Playa dust), in the notes and in the limericks by Gonzo Frothwood which are found inside and out on every potty (at least all the ones in our ‘hood), where you could even find ‘moop’ (matter out of place, which is usually souvenir stuff left anonymously on occasion but towards the end, of course, dropped trash too), and in symbols everywhere. So the whole week is leading up to the Man burning. On Friday I realized that in one more day the Man burned. Unlike the Kentucky Derby, which is also a week long festival event, the Man was going to burn a lot longer than two minutes in climax. So you would think that I’d be dreaming about returning to daily showers, ‘real’ food gotten at my convenience, my own space overlooking this beautiful valley, the hubbub of the hoopla, not to mention computers that work (see Capt. Tuesday’s Tuesday story of dictation), TV, movies, cell phones and the daily news, in short, all the things we have come to depend on, rely on, and demand. You’d think that I would have gotten tired of being continuously dirty, covered in a thin layer of fine Playa silt; hearing people party all night long to the sound of potty doors slamming shut occasionally; and seeing nothing familiar to me from the Default World, including only fully dressed men and women. Yeah, you’d think that, wouldn’t you? But I wasn’t! In fact, I was very sad at having to return to the world. That was when I started to realize that over the past 5 days, including ‘white-out Monday’, something spiritual had happened to my consciousness. I had lived in an uncompromisingly impossible situation undreamt of by me just six days ago, and had not only survived, but adjusted and adapted. I had staked out my day and nighttime territory like a cat. I had made neighborhood friends, had a favorite bar hangout where if they didn’t know my name, they at least knew my face (and my secret thrill), knew certain landmarks as location bearings, and was finding my way around town pretty swell. I had seen a lot of unique stuff and there were gobs more to see. They knew me at the Post Office by name (“Hey, it’s Mr. Pete, the guy with all the cool swag” – thanks to the product manager at Premiere Innovations for providing me with all the gadgets to field test, like Bond, which passed with flying colors). I had taken an impromptu outdoor shower behind a passing water truck (“Mr. Pete, I’m still trying to scrub that image from my mind” – Capt. Tuesday). Heck, I had even grown bold enough to start taking a ‘bowl’ outside the tent in the camp site, to the chagrin of both the Capt. and Goose. (Nevada is one of the states that allow personal use of the weed that Mother Nature provides). By Friday, we, the city of Black Rock could have been all that was left on an apocalyptic Earth. I was enjoying being a non-violent Mad Max. We existed outside the World’s bubble, where even the Devil’s influence seemed nullified. I really didn’t want to leave.

Now that I’ve been back in the Default World three weeks, I miss Burning Man more than on that Friday that I spoke of. Actually, it’s more a longing akin to a wonderful ‘shipboard romance’. I’ve fallen in love with a Man, a Burning Man. Realistically I know that I have to wait to return until next year, though I hope to take in a regional happening in the desert down in SD. Almost as soon as I got back I could feel the layer of the Default World. The stress over business money, payments to be made, the ever developing banking crisis, Ike and all those people who only have one home, now ruined because they don’t live in the Bush/Cheney/McCain stratosphere, except at election time. The difference between Black Rock City and the rest of the planet is like two plateaus separated by a wide chasm where a bridge exists between them for a round trip once a year, visible only to those who look for it. Crossing this bridge, I learned a few things about myself, and a few things in general, to which, I can only thank the team I was part of, and Coffee Camp, that by the end even caffeine couldn’t resurrect. I have to give a ‘shout-out’ in particular to the ‘Queen’ of this expedition as I close this chapter called my first Burning Man, to IPod herself, the always stimulating, ever perplexing, routinely controversial, never boring, extremely loyal ‘man-rancher’, the rascally Keirah Ann Robbins aka IPod. Though some recent news has done much to prove that I am indeed back in the Default World personally, I still see some ‘epilogue’ magical gifting much as I did with the ‘prologue’ part of getting ready for BM. The beautiful valley that I call ‘Barbie-Land’ and once adored like a ‘Ken’ now I see as a part of the Default World. I still like living here but the allure is gone. The weather still turns my head, but the desert was like a BDSM woman in its harshness one day and perfect weather the next. At first it’s a bit tough, a bit rough, a little different, but then your nature adapts to the pleasure pain syndrome and you start to look forward to taking part in the punishment for the pleasure. Living completely free, enjoying Liberty to the fullest, where common sense and Jesus’ two Commandments are supreme, leads me to feel that I had visited a ‘Promised Land’ that Moses or Dr. King never did. Don’t know about Moses, but I do think that Dr. King might have gotten pleasure from taking part in this unique week. I think he would enjoy seeing grown-ups (though there were children present) of all colors, sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching and cheering as the Man, aka the ‘White’ Man’s power structure aka ‘The Establishment’ and the Devil, being rejected and burned in effigy. I think he could have related to the symbolic relevance of the Old Testament Jewish celebration of the ‘scapegoat’ which also happened once a year. He may have frowned, at least, publically, on some of the more ribald features of Burning Man found in Black Rock City, but I guess we’ll never know the answer to that one. Locally a number of my closest scene friends have all said they want to go next year, including one who seems made for this event. I’m smelling ‘sequel’ here, Sports Fans, but next year is a long ways off and a lot can happen between now and then, but, “Lord willing and the creek don’t rise…” END

THE BURNING MAN EXPERIENCE – LIFE AFTER THE RAPTURE – PT ROTHSCHILD

Epilogue: Two weeks after BM, the first thing that IPod said to me was, “I can’t wait to go back home”, indicating that she too had felt that connection and had made that connection. Two weeks after BM IPod returned to T-Town and to an amazing ‘welcome back’ music show at Murrieta’s Corner Pocket with Tree Fingers, Violent Eden, Nice Day, and the Elm Street Rockers. That same night she charmed the pendant from me that I had held out for ransom, and no, I won’t reveal what that ransom was, but what could I do? If not for her, I wouldn’t have even had the pendant, or experienced ‘life after The Rapture’.

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September 27, 2008 by PT Rothschild.

AFTER ‘BURN, BABY BURN’, IT’S ‘DANCING IN THE STREETS’

DCP Zone, CA – The postcard reads, “Rising from the Black Rock Desert in one of the flattest most remote places on earth is an 80 foot temple topped by the stylized figure of a man. Each person (49,599+ this year) is responsible to, pack in their water, food, shelter, and fuel, and leave no trace from the week long celebration. Burning Man with its incredible (art) sculptures, mutant vehicles, fire dancers, music, radio stations, theme camps, and barter society is a life changing experience for those who participate.” (J - Barry Costello, PO Box 37, Nevada City, CA 95959). The picture side shows a girl and three guys looking like the MTV ‘Tank Girl’ edition similar to the girl pictured here, except two of the guys are painted all blue. It is the expression of one of the blue guys wearing a much lighter shade than the famous ‘blue man crew’, that sets the comic tone of this postcard. He looks out in his outrageous attire like he is surprised to see our ‘alien’ Default World culture where ‘sex’ is used to ‘sell’ everything and ‘money’ is valued over people. The addition of a Chevy pickup truck and two mobile cherry pickers grounds the picture as being here and now. Otherwise, they could all be stars standing there, with their hands on their hips, for a Hustler Sci-Fi movie. Now probably you may be thinking that this whole party is not kid-friendly but while you might not want to bring your smart mouth, won’t-follow-the-rules, ‘I know it all’, hormonally ruled teenager who’s deep into puberty with you to Burning Man, children, on the other hand, are welcomed and there are activities galore for them and you (no children are there without parent or guardian) to participate in, like the Mouse Race! where you end up at Brigit Camp for grilled cheese sandwiches, or to just hang out with you and look at all the sights. They even do a Census, but on Saturday night, after chilling most of the day to the feel of anticipation in the air at Coffee Camp with my hair feeling like it was moosed, my nails and cuticles all dust-caked and dry, my heart wondered what was in store for this evening. Friday night had been a blast but you could feel the build-up on Saturday for the night time. The city with its child-like innocence reminded me of what Jesus had said about such a mindset seeing Paradise. So with that in mind, Goose and I set off to cross the Playa and see the Temple beyond the Man (and the temple structure that he was built on). That Temple was set to burn the night after the Man burns. It is said to be a much somber affair as it is sad to see the ‘religious order’ of things being set aside from the world. I would ponder that this is because so much of the world’s charity comes through organized religious systems. So we trudged out the miles, which look deceptively close thanks to the white flatness, and checked out the Temple, stopping for pictures taken of each of us. Then it was back to camp to wait for nightfall, but we took our time on the journey home. Though we were to see the Man burn as a group, Goose left Coffee Camp around 6PM to garner a front row seat for the ‘burn’. It would be a portent for the evening.

After some food handsomely prepared by IPod with Orion celebrating his 28^th birthday, I headed over for a drink at my favorite bar, the Tree Top Lounge with B.A. serving up the ‘funishment’. Then I joined up with the crew and we were off. At first we had some extra people but it soon narrowed down to KB, Capt. Tuesday, Bumper, IPod, Orion, and myself. The night of the ‘burn’ is the climax for a day that seems to be rising up to a boil, an unsettling day actually. So it was that while some of us had gotten more than we expected, there were those who felt they hadn’t gotten what they thought they might. As we waited for the Man to burn in our viewing spot from the third row, a tiff developed. When it was over and the smoke had cleared though the fire hadn’t yet started, only Orion, IPod and myself remained, though KB remained close, mired down by his own very free flowing checkered robe in the tightly packed crowd. Our viewing area was close enough to feel the heat from the pyrotechnics that happened later in the evening. Before the night was over we would all be separated, except perhaps for IPod and Orion.

Before the Man burned, we sat on the hard surfaced Playa packed like sardines in a circle around the Man, so I was able to discard my jacket even though the night air had cooled down, and use it like a pillow for my aching ass. It took four days for the lower back stiffness to leave my body. Again the harsh climate was like a lash on your back so you didn’t get too lulled into Paradise. And then the Man’s arms started to rise on the neon lit Man structure, a structure so high that you could climb up four floors, at least inside the see-through lattice work. The crowd erupted into a roaring cheer. Once the arms reached the Nixon ‘I am not a crook’ position, fireworks started shooting out of what would be fingertips, and then from the structure base. The awesome amount of fireworks against the moonless black desert sky at a ground level of almost 4000’ above sea level, with the bursts of light were breathtaking. After eating a slab of chocolate from a suspicious looking piece of tin foil to which Bumper inquired about (“Sorry Charlie, only the best tuna. It was a leftover from last night’s wild, wild west days, and just enough for one.” – see MSN’s story on ‘magic mushrooms’ in the health section), I was set for the night. As I watched the ‘bombs bursting in air’, the lyrics from the Star Spangled Banner flashed into my mind. Burning Man and the society of Black Rock City, as outlandish as it is, really represents the feeling of ‘Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness – the ‘American Dream’. We have been ‘taught’ that the ‘dream’ is to own land bought from a bank (Wa-Mu, anyone?), be indebted, and become a guaranteed laborer for 30 years. At best this may be a wanted necessity, at worse, the current nightmare, as so many are finding out as I pen these words, all due to the occupation of Iraq for its oil. But before I could dwell on that point too long, a massive explosion and fireball lit up the area with light and heat. You felt the warmth on your skin as another round of cheers also warmed your heart, right down to its cockles. When another explosion went off causing more of the structure to catch fire as the Man was still shooting off fireworks from his hands and base structure, I thought of the last scene from ‘Star Wars’ (Episode 4) after Luke and crew have received their medals for the victory against the (first) Death Star. The Rebellion against the Empire, well, that certainly fit the day, or night as it were. Everywhere and everyone I had talked to in the last six days was a rebel against the Empire, the Establishment, and the Man. All seemed spiritual, some were religious, and maybe there were a few Christians like myself there, but we were all now rejecting the ‘world’, the Default World, like it says to in the Bible, whether any or many of the people there realized it. No money, no use of automobiles per se, and no washing your hands before eating. In the desert, if your hands get sticky from eating a free mouth-watering, cold and delicious ‘bomb’ pop, because you gave an impromptu definition from a picked word card (patriot – ‘a person with a good heart easily misled by cooked Intel’), you simply stooped down and ‘washed’ the stickiness away with a rinse of Playa silt or dust! In the Default World your mom’s head would spin like in ‘Scary Movie’ if you sat down at the dinner table with that announcement. Yet here it worked. I looked over at IPod and watched as the fireworks light bathed her face in varying colors. She was like a Princess Leah. She was as fiery and as headstrong, but Leah would have seen through and banished most of the ‘douche bags’ that IPod (Keirah) took into her heart to the outer moons of Xanadu. Maybe that was part of her charm, certainly that was a large part of her drama, but the timeless expression of youthful marvel painting her face as she gazed at firework burst after firework burst, as she snuggled back against Orion for comfort and warmth, made me speculate as to just what new adventures awaited us in the future. I hoped Orion would be better than the rest.

Soon the Man and the structure were blazing ferociously. Curiously enough though, the Man’s right arm stayed raised in the air like a ‘Heil Hitler’ salute. Watching the burn and knowing what it symbolized to me and so many others there, I wondered about my Jewish ancestors on that side of the family and the ceremony of atonement, when they sent out into the desert the ‘scapegoat’ once a year, which carried the entire community’s sin away. Taking part in this heathen celebration felt spiritual to me in a religious way. A light had been cast into a corner made dark and foreboding by hearsay, opinion, tradition, and order. I looked over again at IPod. She was so like a favorite granddaughter to me. She takes care or rather ‘looks after me’ like Francie did her ‘papa’ in ‘Tree’ and I had come to really trust her and her intuition. To some she is an enigma wrapped in a paradox, but to me she is a ‘safe haven’. I can always find the center of her maze. I felt safe in the crowd of thousands as we sat packed in like Muslims, watching the Man finally burn, then topple, structure and all, crashing to the ground. Suddenly everyone stood up, then people from every direction and the hundreds directly behind us all started running or trotting toward the collapsed heap. IPod and Orion, hands clasped together, were swept from me and disappeared into the sea of faces and screams. I can’t describe my feeling of loss at that moment. Part of me said, ‘you’re old, slow, and stiff, but maybe if you really tried, you could catch up to them. But another part of me, maybe the Jedi part, said ‘it’s their night, I’m not a chaperon, let them go party or whatever.’

I looked around and everywhere people, ‘burners’, were moving toward the Man, or what was left of him. I decided to also go, even though doing so would cause me to lose all my location bearings. Soon I was part of the throng, a mass of people slowly circling around the burnt Man counterclockwise and remembering why I was told they do this at Mecca. After seeing the Man’s ashes for myself, I slowly made my way back to the fringes of the circling crowd, finally slipping free to pause and look around. I did not take any pictures or want to for that matter. I’m sure you can find something on YouTube. I did not want to show you something, Dear Reader, that you really should experience for yourself, if you can. To be in the midst of thousands of people, strangers all to me save less than ten, all rejoicing wildly, spinning fire, hooping and hollering, running here and there in every direction, in a backdrop of hundreds of lit-up art cars, all with music blasting in the distance, is like no other experience I can name. The chaos of it, the unbridled revelry, all lit by fire, starlight, and LEDs is an incredible rush to the senses, and even if you are perfectly sober, you head and sagacity are reeling. So I paused, thought fleetingly of IPod, turned on my ‘raver bait’ flashing pendant I had traded for a night earlier, looked out at the wild, anarchistic glory, and said to myself, ‘OMG’, then stepped off. I might add that at no time was I pushed, shoved, or jostled by the maddening crowd. It was truly other worldly. (ed note: the remainder of this night can be found in ‘Sex & the City – Some Enchanted Evening. Next, the last chapter of The Burning Man Experience, Life After The Rapture – ‘A Wave Good-bye, With A Tear In My Eye’)

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September 17, 2008 by PT Rothschild.

“AND THE MEEK SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH”

DCP Zone, CA – By the way, for those who haven’t guessed it, DCP means DeComPression, because it’s back to being in the Default World, the ‘real’ world your teacher or minister or ‘rent would tell you. You know, the place where ‘reality real world’ shows are scripted and shot at the expense of what the Burning Man art festival/society holds most precious, our home, this planet, and something that we are ALL responsible for (see ‘TV Makes a Mess’ and sign the petition, I did). So it really came as no shock when upon showing several photos to a business neighbor close to my ‘day job’, I got the comment, ‘These people must all be on drugs,” as the neighbor stared at them wide-eyed. How the World is deceived, I thought to myself, when a regular customer to Bev-Mo, the largest and grandest alcoholic (and non-alcoholic) beverage establishment in Riverside County, looks at photos of art cars, sculptures, people riding hand-decorated bicycles, generally having a good time, and says, ‘they must all be on drugs’. This comment is coming from a culture that when you turn on the TV, almost half the ads are for ‘drugs’. Too fat, take a pill. Too thin, take a pill. Sneezing when you dust, take a pill. Not enough iron, take a pill. Not happy enough, worried, and depressed, take a pill. Kids don’t pay attention in school, give them a pill (Ritalin). Don’t want your dog or cat pregnant, crush up a pet birth control pill in their food, so they can have a sex life and not get preggo, just like regular folks. In the week that I was at Burning Man, I saw or heard of not one ‘Heath Ledger’ incident in a city of 49, 599 (official population as of Saturday, August 30^th – Black Rock Beacon) people. And Burning Man exists in a city. Black Rock City has an FM radio station (BMIR – Burning Man Information Radio – 94.5), a TV station, and a Post Office (Zip code 89412) though it looks more like a movie set. The clerks are friendly, engaging, and one of them led me to a symbol necklace that made IPod, when she saw mine, whisper in my ear while flashing me her ‘Lucky Charms’ gleam, “I want that pendant. I’m going to have to figure out a way to get it from you,” which drew a sharp, sudden gulp of air from me. (I wait with bated breath for the ‘con of Woman’, and really enjoy the fun and romance in swimming with these young sharks). Another aspect guiding the hustle and bustle of this ‘off-world’ city are the Rangers, whom I met one night with Goose when we joined up with the Capt. at the Ranger Station house that was down the street from the Black Rock Dinner, which served up free grilled cheese sandwiches but had no regular business hours of operation. Whenever you saw a crowd there you could get the free food. I fetched IPod a sandwich when the snacks Ranger Sasquatch whipped up for us didn’t quite iron out that stomach wrinkle, plus we were all the way across town. Sometimes IPod forgets to eat so she was extra hungry. You’d just know that the sandwich shop opened about 10 minutes after we were told about it. Yeah, Black Rock City is like that. The Rangers keep you out of trouble with the ‘law’ and the ‘undercovers’ that are roaming around, plus they make sure you are safe and will provide you with medical attention if you become sick or injured. There were 36 arrests for drug trafficking which is not bad for a city of 50,000 who are partying. Unlike many law enforcement agencies in the Default World, the Rangers really do ‘protect and serve’ rather harass and intimidate. They reminded me of the police during Kentucky Derby week in Louisville, Kentucky, and the police I met when I traveled in Canada, except the Rangers were more folksy and in the Spirit of Smokey the Bear. People who want to, imbibe in the privacy of their campsite. Also there are no DUI’s at 5MPH, the posted speed limit on all streets in BRC, because you are part of a team, either with the group you came with or the crowd you just met. If you really need to, you can take a scheduled bus back to the closest town for $5 round trip. There is also a place to bowl and a mini put-put golf range, so next time I’m taking my custom putter along with the one my ex-wife used to make stand up all by itself.

The history of Burning Man is explained through a timeline display and is symbolized by a logo theme found on the various sculptures and works of art, which numbered at 194 all scattered at various points in the Playa. The logo is also found on every piece of swag you collect pretty much and especially on the pendants you wind up with. Besides the one IPod has her peepers on, my favorite symbol pendant is the one I was gifted with from one of the crew as I sat and talked to my favorite bartender, B.A. (Bad Ass), in the shade underneath my favorite bar, the Tree Top Lounge aka ‘Raise The Bar’ on the Sunday morning after the Man burned. As the early Christians had their ‘fish’ symbol (Pisces) which though secret was known to each of them, so it is with the symbol of Burning Man. I won’t reveal its shape here, Dear Reader, but if you ever come to BRC, you will know it almost immediately. This symbol becomes a part of you. I have worn the symbol either as a patch or on a pendant every day since returning to the DW. It’s the one piece of BM that I keep close to my heart until I can go ‘home’ again. To glance at pictures of the festive BRC and sum it up to ‘drugs’ is why BM will never be ‘mainstream’. My grandfather used to say, “Son, in the Parade of Life, there are 3 kinds of people: people in the Parade; people watching the Parade; and people saying, ‘what Parade?” The Bible tells us that a third of Mankind will be lost but two-thirds will be on hand when Jesus returns. Those odds don’t sound too bad for surviving but the Bible also says that only 144,000 out of the millions left will be catching the first ‘up’ escalator. Everyone else will get a ‘do-over’ for a thousand years. Jesus himself said to go through the narrow gate. When I look at the society and city built, attended, and cared for by a population who ‘chose’ to take part and feel the abundance of love and a certain level of meekness generated by close to all the week’s inhabitants, people from different cultures, different countries, and people like myself who find themselves at BRC through unforeseen circumstances, getting the cheapest thrill from the biggest bang because it takes money to be able to live in a cashless society, you know a force which is not man-made has to be the magnet. Some churches and some religions may think they have the key to God’s front door and announce that they are the ‘chosen few’, made so by their holy decree, but I ask you the AC/DC question, “Who made who?” If we, Man, made God up as some say, because we needed a ‘god’ for our own good to help explain things, then indeed it is ‘us’ who will pick the chosen. But what if the Bible and all the other works on religion are correct, that there is an Intelligence, a
Will, and a Plan to what we call reality? We know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the world, the Default World, as we know it, the one that Jerry Springer shows us, is nowhere  close to the reality of any metaphysical realm. The Bible comes as close as anything written to accurately describe ‘earth life’ and doesn’t feign the flowery language of some religions to do it. Though Jesus tells us not to look for his second arrival to be in the desert, the desert is where he was first tested. It’s where he chose to become the first inhabitant for a new world, a world yet to come into being. I would put forth the Burning Man and Black Rock City are a testing ground for a society for a new world, hopefully to come after the old world is swept away, as is foretold. BRC could be the blueprint for the meek when they ‘inherit the earth’. For though I saw raw sensuality and good-natured revelry, I never once saw or heard any aggression. Everyone had a natural patience and relaxed attitude toward one another, regardless of attire. Two days after I arrived in BRC, I named this series to be called, ‘The Burning Man Experience – Life After The Rapture. The nature of this BM culture demonstrates a lifestyle currently unattainable and unsustainable on a permanent basis in the world today though the technology exists to make it so. I consider it a miracle that BRC can even be present and real for a week. But in a new world, one without commercialism and money, such a city and population could forge and flourish in fun, when the meek inherit the Earth. To be continued… Next: ‘Burning Down The Louse’

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