Other idiotic Burning Man trips Back to the beginning of this idiotic Burning Man trip

Brief, Boring Prologue

Burning Man's always been fun. If it hadn't been, we wouldn't have been returning for our fourth year.

But the enthusiasm wasn't the same as in the past.

For one thing, Burning Man instituted a whole bunch of new rules. No this, no that, no the other. No tiki torches, for example (because one stupid person burned down his camp by idiotically using his tiki torch inside of a tent -- and did we mention that this person was ONE OF THE BURNING MAN ORGANIZERS?). As our pal Brody Culpepper quips, "Burning Man is just like Disneyland -- only there are more rules!"

And for other reasons, leaving home just then for a long trip wasn't the number-one priority it would normally be.

A number of us planned to rendezvous at the Mojave Phone Booth (now destroyed, in case you haven't heard) for the third year in a row. Things had gotten a little out of hand out there, though. The media coverage that would soon destroy the Booth had spoiled much of the fun. Ordinarily, we would put the date of our visit on the web, and take calls from people curious about Burning Man, the Mojave Phone Booth, and how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop (7,734).

This year, because of all the publicity, we instituted a contest and published the visit date only within Burning Man circles.

Here was the Announcemente Officiale:

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Mojave Phone Booth / Burning Man Linkup

We're marking the 3rd annual pre-Burning Man visit to the Mojave Phone Booth with a linkup between the two. This time we won't be doing any pre-visit press, because we want to take phone calls exclusively from people who will be attending Burning Man 99. Phone in & you'll answer a series of painfully personal and humiliating questions and get a secret password that you can use to obtain fabulous prizes at Deuce of Clubs. We'll be between Saturn & Uranus, alongside Disgruntled Postal Workers / Portland Cacophony / Art Kars / &c. ... Just look for the four-foot-tall playing card disguised as the Deuce of Clubs Mystery Vending Machine.

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Well, that's the Prologue. Low-key? We told you it was boring. But things will pick up. There are Mountain Monograms. There's a playa chicken. We stage a fake book signing with a Larry Harvey impersonator. A bat commits suicide by flying into the side of my head. Stuff like that.

So wake the hell up already and click "Next."