Monday, September 7, 2015

The 'B' stands for Bacon.

Pictured: The thing that didn't happen.
Hey there, I'm back. I was, as I often am this time of year, at Burning Man. Here, feign interest in some of my photos from previous years: 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014. I'll wait. Back? Sure, let's say yes. I have no way of knowing. Anyway, every year the internet is awash with predictions about something that's supposed to go wrong and ruin Burning Man forever. Rain, rich people, Grover Norquist. This year was supposed to be a biblical plague of insects, but there were exactly zero.

We did get some pretty brutal dust storms but that's to be expected when you have your quasi-steampunk/art show/electronic music/hippie/dance and setting things on fire party in a vast, empty dry lake bed, so really we should all just shut up a little bit.
"Dust? At Burning Man? Goddamnit..."
-The cast of Mad Max: Fury Road
"Ok, we're done here.
Who wants In-N-Out?"
People came, camps were set up and poutine was eaten. By me. At midnight (again, see here). People who like drugs did drugs. People who don't didn't, and the titular Man burned so really, everything lived up to expectations. What did surprise me was this. What? No, you click on the...you never click on my links, do you? All these years I've been linking to things pertinent to what we're talking about and you've never clicked on a single one, have you?

Above: Hot, full frontal robo-nudity,
you can't get that anywhere else...

We play our little game where I pretend to get upset and then explain the link anyway, but really, you've never even bothered, have you? Well not this time. This time, I'm going to press on and if you don't click on the link you're going to be lost. Not my problem. You'll just sit there, looking confused and...and-of course, I suppose you could simply go read someone else's blog. I mean, what's stopping you? It's not like my blog is full of breaking exclusive celebrity news or gratuitous nudity. It's usually about Star Trek or what a tool Mike Huckabee is. You can get that anywhere.

Oh, there he is. Never mind.
Fine. Here: the FBI is spying on Burning Man. Yeah, the FBI has revealed that they've had the event under surveillance since 2010. Supposedly, they use it as a training exercise, which, alright. It is, after all, a massively crowded, navigationally challenging tent city where finding a porta-potty can sometimes be a challenge. And if you meet someone there, you have to exchange contact info immediately, because finding them again will be up there with tracking down D. B. Cooper.

But of course, it's not just about training. The Bureau also suspects that that some of the participants might be taking the drugs.
"Yes, no shit indeed, Watson. No shit indeed..."
At Comic-Con, just look for the
cosplayers surrounded by people
asking: who are you supposed to be?
Ok, c'mon. It's not a secret that there are drugs at Burning Man, but it's not like that's all it's about. For the most part, people are discreet about it. Nobody wants a felony charge, so unless someone is running down the streets shouting 'Druuuuugs!' (which is not completely out of the question) you might not even be aware that it's a thing there. Actually I'd liken drugs at Burning Man to Babylon 5 at Comic-Con. Sure, it's there and there are certainly some devotees, most of whom will gladly invite you to share in their interest, but if it's not your thing, nobody's going to force the issue.

He may look all business, but just out
of frame, he's not wearing any pants.
Mostly it's a live and let live atmosphere. Sure, the FBI could probably bust a couple of people for drugs, but why? The local cops already handle that. If FBI agents want to go to Burning Man, why don't they just go to Burning Man? Everyone's welcome, even the G-Men as long as they're not being dicks about it. They don't have to concoct some elaborate surveillance plan, just go like anyone else have a good time and try to go a few days without busting anyone for 'shrooms. 

If anything, it's a great opportunity to foster some goodwill for law enforcement. Hey, they could even start a camp where agents serve bacon dressed up like J. Edgar Hoover in drag or something. People would love it.
Federal Bacon Immolation. There, I just named your camp. You're welcome.

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