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Let’s Review 119: Burning Man, Burning Desert, Burning Continent

“In the digital age, the Marxist Socialists try to seize the means of digitization. They have already seized the big four, Google, YouTube, Facebook & Twitter plus the digitized successors to the legacy print media.”

Bambi asked which “shiny thing” we wanted to go to next, like she did whenever we’d soaked up enough of one spot. I scanned the distance and saw an enormous strobing pyramid; a duck atop a 100-foot spire; a heart-prism pulsing concentrically with red; all pieces in the riotous puzzle of color stretching around me. Some of these constructs crawled across the sand, thumping with music: art cars. They were buses, each stripped and repurposed beyond recognition in their own way. All of them had at least a neon setup, ranging from a few lights to sophisticated LED matrices displaying images. Some spit jets of flame into the air. They were like spaceships from a post-scarcity society, iridescent and swimming through the stars in search of novelty. Revelers in full regalia—fetishwear, steampunk, raver—would jump onto the vehicles and dance in a teeming mass of ghostly luminescence. Everyone was so good at dancing. Instead of looking for a destination I tried to find a concise way to explain Burning Man to friends back home. A Satanic carnival, I thought, where everyone is a carnie. Glancing Backwards in the Desert – Jacobite

Serena Williams Losing The US Open Is Not Racism Serena Williams has been a tennis pro and a champion long enough to know the rules. Being “Serena Williams” doesn’t mean that she gets to break the rules without getting called out on it. It’s not “the patriarchy,” and it’s not racism. Her coach admitted to the violation. She broke her racket. She kept arguing with the chair umpire. None of this is in dispute. The dispute is over the penalty – which apparently was completely within the purview of the umpire.

[Pleading the belly was a process available at English common law, which permitted a woman in the later stages of pregnancy to receive a reprieve of her death sentence until after she bore her child. The plea was available at least as early as 1387 ]

How Donald Trump dismantled the New Class | Like all aristocrats, the New Class defends its privileges as the consequence of fixed and unchangeable laws of nature. We’d love to do something for you poor slobs, they tell us, except nothing can be done. If you’ve fallen behind, it’s because we’ve moved to an information economy with premium wages for high-skilled workers, and regrettably you’re dumb and low-skilled. And if you’ve fared poorly, maybe you did it to yourself, with your drug dependency, your laziness, your general loutishness.

Nike to ‘Sacrifice Everything’ for Black Community Starting today, Nike will put its $36.3 billion in annual revenue, and its U.S. employees, to work on behalf of inner-city communities hit hard by income inequality, by institutional racism, and most tragically, by President Trump’s Tweets about NFL players who kneel during the National Anthem.

How We Were: The Years of Hitchhiking:   The big roads were safe then, or we thought they were. Many of us, the more adventurous, poured onto the highways, just going, moving, looking. We were devotees of the long-haul thumb, crossing and recrossing the continent, dropping into Mexico, whatever. A camaraderie held. There were rules. On an onramp it was first come first served, no butting in line and anybody with his thumb out was taken as a friend, or at least friendly. “Hey, man, got any shit?” was a common question. This meant grass, pot, ganja, herb, and good manners was to share.

There are no such things as “LGBT” people in an essential sense. If there are LGBT people, then are also pedophiles, woofies, necrophiliacs, pansexuals, objectum sexuals, and on and on. There is no coherent way to draw a line separating homosexuality with any of these other (so-called) sexualities in Fr Martin’s philosophy. Men wanting to masturbate into other men’s colons do not somehow have a superior position among those with non-procreative sexual desires. Every sexual desire must by Fr Martin’s philosophy become a type of human creature (vaguely or never defined). All sexual desire must also be seen as equal in value in his system. It is only prejudice which judges any sexual desire as being immoral. And that is insane.

On a daily basis the mass media tells us that there is no reason for the Dirt People to bother voting this fall. The blue wave is coming in November and the House will soon be stuffed with exotic brown people, sporting funny names and a long list of grievances against whitey. Yet, they are in a full panic, carrying on as if they expect the opposite. The grotesque theater that was the McCain funeral is another example that suggests these people feel the heat of the setting sun.

I Really Don’t Feel Like Submitting To Socialist Tyranny. Do You? Let’s take the richest man ever was, Jeff Bezos. He’s got a net worth of at least $150 billion. It not in actual dollars, though, unless he has the world’™s biggest mattress. It’s mostly in Amazon stock. We’ll just leave aside the inconvenient issue of what would happen to Amazon’s stock value if it were “seized” and nationalized and just assume he’s got a big pit full of dollar bills. We take all that and split it among the 330 million Americans and everyone gets…$454.55. Congrats. Everyone gets one payment on their 2015 Toyota Camry.

You are standing on one of the few inhabitable… planets in the universe screaming through space at 67,000 miles per hour. Except you are just standing there having just taken a sip of water that was likely delivered to you without much thought on your part.  Your fellow world citizens have figured out how to transport you painlessly around the planet by land, sea, and air.  And you are upset about something?  You have been slighted?

We will go over the cliff by chasing the moon, as the old saying goes, because conformity through socializing proves a hard bad habit to beat. No one can talk about how nothing is working, how everyone is miserable, and how our future involves a crash a thousand times worse than what is happening in Venezuela. This means that we have nothing to do but cross our fingers, obey policies we know are moribund, pay taxes we know are wasted, and wait for the inevitable end. Unlike everything Leftists promise, that end will actually come, and with it if we are lucky our silly addiction to socially-correct bleating and Leftism.

So I was taking my child (we don’t use gendered terms like “son” or “daughter”) out in the Prius to go to Whole Foods and on the way I encountered a cis white male driving a pickup truck. I didn’t want to make eye contact out of fear, so we stopped and let the truck turn in front of us. While he was turning he nodded right at me and raised his hand. Is this a new white power symbol? I’m literally shaking right now!? He had a bumper sticker that said Pipe-fitters Local 117, and another that said Ford Power. I’ve reported both of these new hate groups to the SPLC. What the fucking fuck!? : The_Donald

The destruction of 20 million Brazilian records, tragic as it might be, pales in comparison to the potential loss of the digital libraries upon which our world depends. The 21st century is generating libraries at an unimaginable rate and they are by no means safe.Just one radio telescope, the SquareKilometre Array (SKA), is expected to produce “up to one exabyte (10 to the 18th bytes)of data per day, roughly the amount handled by the entire Internet in 2000.” According to a source quoted by Forbes the world may be creating 163 zettabytes of data a year by 2025. (A zettabye is one trillion gigabytes.) Much of this information will be used to create the software libraries upon which our daily lives will increasingly depend.  Enter the labyrinth | Belmont Club

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  • Sixty Ville September 9, 2018, 4:15 PM

    You know how the Pageant of the Masters in Laguna Beach, CA, is a series of live recreations of great art? Burning Man is the recreation the Hell panel of Bosch’s The Garden of Earthly Delights.

  • DeAnn September 10, 2018, 5:40 AM

    Been following Burning Man on instagram trying to understand “the idea”. Your guy writes well (though I wish her name hadn’t necessarily been Bambi).

    This seemed to me to be a striking observation:
    One of the tenets of Burning Man is radical self-expression, and self-expression deepens into a desire to be looked at.
    To be looked at – I wonder why he chose to express it that way rather than a “desire to be seen”.
    and this:
    I tried to find a concise way to explain Burning Man to friends back home. A Satanic carnival, I thought, where everyone is a carnie.

    I’ve been saved a trip.

  • ghostsniper September 10, 2018, 8:45 AM

    Never got that whole Burning Man business, seems like a collection of retarded adult children.

    Serena Williams – the Hillary Clinton of Tennis.

    Haven’t seen any of that Trump “Winning” I keep hearing about.
    More fake news?
    BTW, where’s that wall?

    Obviously Nikes “winning” has been so easy that the higher ups feel innately guilty about it, so it’s only natural that they will give it all away due to incompetence. They scammed the herd way too long.

    In May of 1980 with my beaten tail between my legs I left Anchorage with my friend Ed on our Western Air flight for Seattle. The tickets cost $99 each. In the cabin with us were a host of long and short guns, hundreds of rounds of ammo, large and small knives. There was no problem with any of that and if per chance a ne’er do well made his move so would we. That plane was far safer than any plane that has flown since.

    In Seattle we bought $29 bus tickets headed for Portland Oregon and when we stepped off that bus we had $6 each in our pockets so we aimed our leather personnel carriers toward Interstate 5, unknowing and uncaring that hitchiking was illegal on interstates.

    Our first ride was in an old 50’s Chevy 5 window truck, dark green, with a bunch of junk in the bed. We threw our backpacks in the bed and the driver, a large deranged looking fella in overalls with 1 strap undone, jumped out and climbed right in our asses about taking it easy on his truck, thinking our packs were gonna hurt it. Ed and I looked at each other confused, apologized to the dood and then we all loaded up and headed south. Not a word was spoken again. The glove box lid was down and there was loose leaf scattered all over it and the compartment was slammed with full and partial baggies, pipes, papers, clips, etc. Ed and I were Jonesin’ but we didn’t say a word. He dumped us out when he exited stage right and there we stood.

    The next ride was an old guy in a 4 door sedan that looked like a business man. I sat in the front and Ed in the rear and again not a word was spoken. A few miles down the road and suddenly the old dood pointed at a billboard and started yelling in a foreign language and getting upset. I looked back at Ed and he thumbed the hammer cord off his pistol and I did too. He exited too without incident. Then we stood, and waited. And waited….. We decided it was harder for 2 to get a ride than 1 so we split up. I started walking and Ed stayed there and thumbed. An hour later I saw him go past in a vehicle. Soon I got a ride. And so it went. I passed Ed standing on the road, and he passed me, as we made our way to my army buddies house in Los Angeles. I had called him from Anchorage and he told me we should get our asses to LA cause he can get us jobs in the steelworkers union working at Martin-Marietta in Torrance where he worked. So that was the goal.

    I caught a ride with a dood in a semi that had a giant dog named Bear riding with him. Bear didn’t like sharing his seat but he got used to my dog luvvin ass and soon owned all over me. The driver said he was heading for home for some shut eye and was heading back out at dawn and I was welcome to stay at his crib if I wanted. Seems kinda creepy now but didn’t then. I was young, spry, heavily armed, in good shape, and could use some indoor sleep after napping on the ground in the median strips for 2 nights. I woke the next morning and the dood and bear were gone and a note on the table said to lock up when I leave. I made a sando then hit the road. This was outside Eugene, OR.

    Soon I caught another ride with a dood my age and his teenage new wife, in a truck with a topper. We all sat in the bench seat with the young wife in the middle and all they did was argue. The dood said he was ex-army and I could tell there was something wrong with his circuit board. After a spell he got pissed and pulled into a rest stop and started accusing me of working on his ho. Right in front of him. I hadn’t, but he was convinced and told me to ride in the back with my pack. I fell asleep in the back and when I awoke we were in the parking lot of a restaurant and he told me to get out. I did, and asked where we were and he said he changed over to PCH, highway 101. I couldn’t believe he did that, and blamed myself for sleeping. I wanted to stay on I-5 where there was lots of traffic. 101 was a 2 lane road and no one ever picks anyone up. So I walked, and walked, and walked. I walked across the Oregon-California border and kept walking. I went off the road and crashed, got up at dawn and walked some more, soon came to Crescent City. Dusk was approaching and I came out the south side of Crescent. Now it was dark and there was a small redneck bar along the road with lots of racket emitting from it’s open doors. Just past the bar commerce dropped off completely so I stood there with my thumb out, maybe 200 yards south of the bar. After a while some young doods came out and got in a truck and headed in my direction. Some were standing in the bed, hooting and hollering and throwing shit. They roared past me and someone threw a bottle at my ass. Missed. I gave em the finger. They got down the road a ways and did a donut and headed back. I reached under my down jacket and unthumbed the cord on my Ruger blackhawk. They flew past and kept going. shwew

    I stood there for a bit then started walking south. It was dark as hell, I walked and walked. Soon I came upon a sign saying, “Del Norte Redwood Forest”. Great! I always wanted to see them things. It was an amazing walk really. Dark as hell, no moon, no traffic, just me and nature, pure. On my right were steep cliffs overlooking the Pacific crashing way below and on my left the largest living things on the planet. Un-fucking-believable. I walked into the forest and actually touched a few of the giants. The depth of the furrows in the bark was breathtaking. Eventually day emerged and the fantasy faded away and I kept walking.

    I caught a few more rides and eventually got back out on I-5 close to San Fran. It was about 2am and a black Datsun 260 Z pulled up and I got in. The driver was in his 30’s, a business man, and was going to San Diego and was rather engaging. He had been on the road since Seattle and was tired and asked if I would mind driving for a spell. I couldn’t believe it, I was going to drive a brand new 260Z, holy kow! So we traded seats, he crashed out, and as the sun came out a few hours later I crossed into the city limits of Torrance. I got out, we shook hands, he headed south and I went in the Mister Donut and called my army buddy. His wife picked me up, we went to their house and I got cleaned up and later that day he assembled about 30 friends and we celebrated getting back together after separating in Germany about 2.5 years prior. NOBODY parties like Californians. I got on at Martin Marietta but Ed didn’t cause he had a felony and he eventually scared up the coin for a ticket back to Rochester NY where his wife and young daughter lived that he abandoned a couple years ago. He and I had been roomates for a year and he never told me he was married and had a kid. That fucker. I never hitchhiked again.