Bstrates 3|su burning man continued But what does it all mean? The organizers refuse to say. @ base, perhaps, it’s about the Man. And about fire. The history books say the whole thing started 14 years ago when an artist named Larry, (the Man) burnt his own effigy on a California beach to symbolize the purging of some shit he had going @ a rough time in his life. People found they could relate to this symbol, and seven years ago, after the yearly performance had long since evolved into a phestival, the numbers grew so high it was necessary to move it to the desert. According to Greek myth, Prometheus suffered to have his liver eaten fresh from his live body for all eternity because he passed on the secret of fire to mortal Man. (Zeus was pissed off.) And we’ve been much better off for it, thanks. Fire is knowledge, power, the first and most vital step in our cultural evolution. It’s progress, change, a chemical breaking asunder and piecing together again. And for me, it was the spirit of Burning Man. When that massive statue that sat silent and still @ the centre of the week’s energy raised its arms on the final night, and the whole population proceeded out onto the Playa to witness the rite, it dawned on me. When: we burn the Man, we symbolically surrender ourselves to the fire that has changed us, that has made us what we are today, in the spirit of what we can and may be tomorrow. It’s an act of humility, destroying the pride of what we have become, opening up possibilities for us to remake ourselves in our own image. And as the preceding days of the phestival seem to suggest, our intelligence does not have to include the ability to shoot down our neighbour, or the tendency to look @ nature as a resource to be consumed for commercial gain. Our intelligence can lead us wherever we choose, toward whatever we imagine. And in the hours that followed this year’s Burn, a magic electrified the air, and on every moonlit face I saw the freedom in a belief that the envisioning of the future determines the future. Now, if this article is less than perfectly objective, I wouldn’t be surprised. Is it more true than the media news? I guess you'll never know unless you go and see for yourself. Come on, get fired. photography by Chris Jones Burning the temple of Rudra - a stage for the Saturday night opera. Nn of the World... And the Car Alarm Sings by Lionel Doe Listen......Do you hear the sirens? That’s because there are car alarms everywhere, and they’re bloody loud. I am a bicyclist, and as such, I suppose I can be blamed for setting some off myself with the whoosh of air I sometimes push against them as I ride by. And as a bicyclist, I’m ten times as annoyed by the unnecessary noise we have to put up with in the name of ownership and consumerism. The purchase of car alarms can only be chalked up to consumerist ignorance because, simply put, they don’t work. When was the last time you concerned yourself with the sound of a car screaming other than to want to beat the thing to paste because it’s so fucking annoying? It’s pollution, and it has replaced the toxic emissions cars were allowed to emit under the law not too many years ago, only now the waste is in the form of sound. I’ll be honest, this is a one-sided look at the issue, I’m no fan of cars at the best of times, but I won’t go into detail about the cars that nearly kill me on the road everyday, or the ones that honk at me unnecessarily as I pedal along in the gutter. I’m just going to vent my anger at the particular sounds many of them are prone to make these days. The world is full of noises, but no noise speaks with more hateful tones than the urban song of the car alarm. I listened closely once to the shiny black little number parked in the alley outside my apartment one Sunday afternoon. There I was, at relative peace, when I heard that all too familiar wail. Under the harsh electronic frequency shifts, it seemed to speak to me. It said, “T’m not only illegally parked and overpriced, I’m mostly plastic and extremely loud. My seats are made of fallen animals, and my owner is as shallow as they come. Someone pay attention to me, I somehow feel like a waste of material and space.” Some questions I have are these: When was the last time you heard a peep out of “The Club”? Why do the alarms go off so easily? Are the triggers set proportionately as tight as their owners asses? How is that measured? As I live and breathe, I swear to you - I have heard the end of the world, and it sounds like this - Whew o whew o whew o whew o whew o whew o whew o ruuuoohhp ruuuoohhp ruuuoohhp ruuuohhp bruueee bruueee bruueee bruueee annkh annkh annkh annkh annkh annkh... drawing by Suez Holland December “1998 e infiley xo'26053. alsubstrates burning man continued Bat what docs tall mean? The organizes refse to sy. bass, perhaps, ifs about the Man. And about it, The artist named Larey (he Man) burnt his own effigy on a California beach to symbolize the purging of some shit he h rough tine in is life. People found they ia seren Sear ago, fe the yearly performance had long since volved into a pest, the numbers grew so high twas necesary to move it tothe desert. According to Greek myth, Prometheus suffered to have his liver eaten fresh from his ive body forall eternity Because he passed on the secret of fire to mortal Man. (Zeus was pissed off) And we've been much better off for it, thanks, Fie is knowledge, power the fist and mort vital step in our cultural evolution. [es Progress, change, a chemical breaking asunder and piecing together ean. And for me, i was the spirit of Burning Man, ‘When that massive stare that sat silent and still @ the centre of the weeks energy ruse its arms on the final night, and the whole population procesded out onto the Playa to witness the rite ie dawned on me, ‘When we burn the Man, we symbolically surender courses othe fre that has changed us, that has made ws what we are today, in the sprit of what we ean and may be tomorrow I's an fct of humility, destroying the pride of what we have become, opening up possibilities for us to remake ouraches in our own image. And atthe preceding days of the phentival seem to suggest, cur intligence does not have to include the ability to shoot down ‘ur neighbour, or the tendency to look @ nature asa resource to be Consumed for commercial gain. Our intligence can lead ut wherever we choose toward whatever we imagine, And inthe ours that fllowed this year's Burn, a magic clestrifed the ar, and on every moonlit face I saw the freedom in @ belie that the envisioning ofthe future determines the future Now, if this article i lees than perfectly objective, I wouldn't be surprised, Ts itmore tue than the media news? I guest youll never know unles you go and see for yourself. Come on, et fired ad going @ a ad oat this symbol Tei vay WO ed jurning the temple of Rudra - a stage for the Saturday night opera. And the Car Alarm Sings by Lionel Doe Listen...Do you hear the sitens? That's because there ae car alarms crerywhere, and they're bloody loud. T am a bye, and as sue T suppose I canbe blamed for setting some ff myself with the whoosh of air T sometimes push against them as Tide by. And aba bicyclist, I'm ten times as annoyed by the unnecessary noise we have to put up with in the name of ‘wmership and consumerism. The purchase of ca alarms can only be chalked up to consumerist ignorance because simply put hey don’t work. When was the las time you concerned yourvef with the sound of a car screaming other than to sant to beat the thing to paste because i's so fucking annoying? Is polation, and i has replaced the toric emisions cars were allowed to emit under the Taw not too many years ago, only now the waste isn the form of sound. Tl be honest, this i a one-sided look atthe issue Tm no fan of cars a the best of ies, but Iwoa’t go into deal about the cars that neal kil me on the road everyday, othe ones that honk at me unnecessarily as I pedal along in the gutter. I'm just going to vent my anger at the patcular sounds many’of them ae prone to make thse dave The world is fll of noises, but no noise speaks with ‘more hatefl tones than the urban song of he car alarm. Tlistened ‘lovely once tothe shiny black litle number parked inthe alley futside my apartment one Sunday afternoon. There I was, at relative peace, when I head that al foo familiar wail. Under the harsh electronic frequency shifts, seemed to speak to me. sai, “I'm not only illegally parked and overpriced, 'm mostly plastic sand extremely loud. My seats are made of fallen animals, and my ‘meri as shallow as they come. Someone pay attention £9 me, omehow fel ike a waste of material and space” December 1998 © influ xr26083 ‘Some qucrtions Ihave are these: When was the ast time you heard a peep out of “The Club"? Why do the alarms go off fo easy? Are the triggers set proportionately ax Gght at their ‘owners asses? How i that measured? As Live and breathe, I swear to you - Thave heard the nd ofthe world, and it sounds like thi -Whew o whew o whew 0 whew 0 whew 0 whew © whew o rumuochhp rusuodkhp ruuyoohhp auuobhp brauece bruuece bruveee bravece ann fnnkh annkh ann annkh ann