The annotated set list

My pal Dave White, aka DJ. Mrs. White in the Library with the Lead Pipe , spins at a creepy-sounding bar in LA. Sometimes he writes up his set list (note: seems like a lot of work to me) but the best part is he annotates it with crowd reaction:

This prompted a group of four lithe latino boys, all with that assymetrical hair the kids think is hot and 80s, all sipping drinks with straws, to begin going "Whoooo!" and dancing in that way where you kind of gyrate your hips while standing still and holding up one harm with a limp wrist as though you are a periscope. Every time I played something they liked, they'd do the periscope dance.

Finally, there's a name for that move. I look forward to using it in casual conversation.

BM

I love listening to the change in attitudes about Burning Man from the people who don't go to it. In the late 1990's when I first got here, people would treat talking about BM like speaking about adventure travel: wow that's really cool that you went on a survivalist retreat in the desert. I admire you for it, but that's not my kind of fun.

Then it was known as sort of a raver party thing as it got nearer to the dot-com boom: yeah I've heard about it. It sounds fun but a little retarded. I'm tempted to go but really not all that tempted.

Then the new batches of people flooding into the city who played fusball at work and carried scooters on BART were excited about it, which is about the same time it became okay to mock Burning Man with friends you trust.

Then after the bust it seemed the hardcore burners became militant while word of the event spread further into the country. Here in San Francisco, we learned about after-burn and decompression parties and other exclusionary events: That party sucked; it was full of Burning Man people.

Then slowly the tide had started to turn against them. Otherwise cool people who continue to go to Burning Man annually finally shut up about it and started keeping it to themselves.

And now, it's only three weeks before the event that the chatter picks up. People admit they're going to BM like they admit watching American Idol- it's an embarrassing guilty pleasure. They say: I'm going to Burning Man, but I'm sure you think it's stupid. And more than ever before the average person is openly hostile to it. Rather than feeling someone out before making fun of the event, it's fine to talk shit about BM in public.

And when that guy lit the man on fire prematurely this year, people were laughing and emailing it back and forth at work, glad to see it get messed up. I thought that was a little cruel to be happy when others' good time is ruined, even if you think their good time is dumb.

But then again, I've been hating Burning Man since long before it was cool. Now that all these amateur poseur haters are joining in, it's just not as much fun anymore.

So I'm now declaring hating Burning Man over.

From now on it's all about loving Burning Man ironically.

But I can't talk about that right now. I'm busy planning the best decompression party ever.

A literary work of arrrr

I just finished reading Pirate Hunter: The True Story of Captain Kidd. It's one of those 400-page historical biographies that are all the rage these days. Also all the rage these days is taking liberties with the emotions of the characters, telling you how they surely felt as they looked at their wife one last time or whatever. But it's forgiveable because it makes the story compelling and there are a bajillion facts to back up everything else. The book was a good read and the author Richard Zacks did a nice job cranking up the drama with his structure. Recommended.

To celebrate finishing the book I chose to pour myself a drink. Though I should be drinking madeira, the fortified wine from the Madeira Islands of Portugal that was prized by pirates, I will instead be having some good old-fashioned rum and dreaming of sweet, sweet booty.