Mock Religion is the Opiate of the Masses
by Perry Lane

A lot of ãexperiencedä Burning Man veterans are annoyed by first-year attendees, who they derisively call ãvirginsä or ãfreshmen.ä But to me, the most annoying people on the playa arenât the newbies, but the second-year crowd, many of whom I call ãZealots.ä Like the rest of us, Zealots are folks who had their minds blown away their first year but, for some reason, never the perspective needed to see that the powerful energy that surged them was simply a fleeting element of collective human behavior. Instead, they continually confuse it with something supernatural, and most likely, religious. They feel that they, in some way, have been transformed, and they continually try to transform everyone around them ÷ in much the same way a new heroin junkie may try to turn-on all of their friends.

In Isreal, this form of hysteria is known as the ãJerusalem Syndrome,ä and occurs when a tourist ÷ usually a Christian ÷ is overwhelmed by the sublime properties of that officially Holy City. Probably the most famous American victim of this syndrome changed his name to David, and put on one hell of a fire performance in Texas a few years back.

Getting their Burning Man fix
These Zealots are the worst kind of junkie. Sick for this Burning Man brand of endorphin rush, one week a year is simply not enough. They must find other ways to get their fix: attending post-parties, pre-parties, fund raisers, and film festivals. If none of these ãmainlineä events are available, then they must find some other way to get their high. If theyâre lucky, theyâll find a group of people at a bar or a cafe talking about Burning Man. Theyâll sneak up next to them, join the conversation, and get a contact high. If theyâre unlucky, they must skin-pop the experience, by perching themselves in a corner at a party, bus stop, or train, and ramble on superfically about the deep impact of the event to anyone willing to listen. Failing that, theyâll re-read back issues of Piss Clear, which theyâve secreted in their vest pocket in preparation for these hard-up times.

Itâs a depraved life that demands more and more. Fortunately, unlike heroin, itâs very hard to overdose ÷ at least fatally. About the closest you can come is to become a glorified khaki motherfucker (see Playa Lingo), complete with khaki sun hat and walkie talkie. Or, if you donât like telling people what to do, you can always help out with the opera.

Did someone say opera?
An opera? In the desert? What a novel idea! Or at least thatâs what most people thought back in 1996, when City of Dis, PepŽ Ozanâs fire lingam opera production, took peopleâs breaths away. Who knew then that it would become the new religion of the Burning Man festival? The Zealots, of course, will disagree with this, saying, ãNo, itâs just a mock religion, not a real religion.ä But hey, a mock religion filled with dogma, ritual, and mythology is still religion. Sounds like a pretty good paradox. But, as those exposed to the decadence and pretension of last yearâs spectacle know, there is no good paradox involved in the opera. In fact, this paradox is pretty much aesthetically bankrupt and should be tarred and feathered and run out of town as an example to any that may follow.

So what is this opera?
If you take away this fluke of logic, along with the inanely repetitive music, the painted titties and testes, and the quasi-religious endorphin rush, then what is PepŽâs fire lingam opera? Iâll tell you. Itâs something between an elementary school costume parade and a church candle lighting service, only longer. Much, much longer.

So which muse was it who told PepŽ to transform his fire lingam into a stage? Was it that same muse who talked him into doing it over and over again? And what about that giant windsailer that crashed into the lingam last year? Was it because the driver was tanked up on twelve martinis? Or was it Fateâs way of saying that maybe there should never be another fire lingam opera on the playa?

But perhaps PepŽ is simply heeding the words that a bad artist once said to another: ãBe creative, but if you canât be creative, at least bore people with your pretense of creativity.ä

© 2002 Piss Clear
Web site design and construction by David Wisz