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Frat Boy Go Home
by The Judge, Archbishop of Atonement

I hate frat boys.

Now, I'm not talking about individuals who join fraternities ÷ I'm sure that the tradition of fraternal orders offers some unforeseen benefit to college students. Rather, I'm talking about the stereotypical frat boy. The guys with their baseball cap on backwards, drinking beer after beer after beer, who come to Burning Man thinking it's just like spring break at Daytona Beach. Well this isn't Daytona Beach any more than it's Woodstock. This is Black Rock City and we don't cater to those types of individuals 'round these parts.

Every year, places like Daytona Beach, Florida and Lake Havasu, Arizona are besieged by sex-crazed college students in their fervent effort to forget all things scholastic and concentrate on getting drunk and laid.

That is about the only similarity between the spring break areas and Black Rock City.

Look. Everyone wants to get laid and escape reality for a little while, but out here on the playa, things are a little different. Out here, a big part of what makes this city (and event) so damn cool is the fact that it is not what most people expect. You ask anyone that has never been out here and I will bet they think of it being this big rave out in the middle of nowhere. I bet you even thought that as well, didn't you? But once you're out here, you see that it is so much more and so completely different from the normal large events that take place.

So for all you new people that haven't had it pounded into your skulls as you drove through the gate, let me remind you of some key things to keep in your head:

This is not a place to forget the simple aspect of drinking more water than alcohol. But if you haven't had this edict ingrained into your cranium by this time, then you are probably not worth saving anyway. Go ahead, have another brew. Beer's mostly water, right?

This is not a rave in the sense that you can't just toss your empty water bottle on the ground and expect it to get picked up after the event by a bunch of cleanup crews. Mom ain't here. Pick up your goddamned trash!

This is not the place to be walking around without sunscreen, video camera around your neck shouting, "Show me your tits" to every female that walks by.

This is not a place where you want to get sick. Period. Sure the first aid people are top notch, but you should make it your goal to never see them. Never need them. Take responsibility for your own little life and do what you can to stay healthy.

This is not just a rave. Sure one only needs to open their ears at night to hear the incessant "thump thump thump" of sound systems spinning techno-electro-trance-dance music in just about every direction, and if you are into the whole "rave" thing I am sure you can get your fill ÷ but there is so much more to this place. Get out of the rave tents and camps and check out some of the other stuff the city has to offer.

In short, this is an area that promotes free thinking and free expression in just about every conceivable form, but at the same time, this is not the place to be an irresponsible bonehead. It's important to take responsibility for your actions. The rule around here has always been "do whatever you want, so long as it doesn't infringe upon the rights of others" and that means if you walk around, looking at the entire event through a camera, swilling brewskies and tossing your garbage on the ground, you are infringing on my rights to have a good time here as well.

And I really don't like having my rights infringed.



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