LUCIFER LIVES IN THE RICHMOND

So the big buzz at the moment is Burning Man. I hadn’t given it much thought since last year having faced the challenges of cold/windy/rainy weather, a twisted group of candy-flippers for travel companions, and a manic closet-homosexual posing as a foster camp. The vibe itself was fundamentally good, it’s amazing to be surrounded by 26,000 diverse people who come together with the intention to bring creativity to life and treating everyone like a close friend, but I also think that it was used as a platform for perverts to gather and exhibit their tastelessness. I know, I know, freedom of expression means allowing ALL to be free, and who am I to justify one act as art and another as obscene, however, if you can find artistic merit or brotherly love in a 65 year old naked man who rides a bike around making good use of a dildo strapped to the seat and I will gladly retract my statement.

I tossed the idea of going again around briefly last month when the hum was growing stronger, but seeing as I’ve been traveling the country for the last 10 weeks, funding would not allow it. I wouldn’t mind visiting Black Rock city again, now that I’ve been I have a better concept of do’s and don’ts, but I have to admit I’m a bit jaded by the freak appeal, especially after what I saw Friday night.

A friend and I were walking home around 1:00 am in the Richmond. We turned the corner from 4th Street onto Clement, and fast approaching was a 7 foot tall Satan. I found it most remarkable that he was actually walking on black hooves with black fur around the ankles. He had shoulder length straight black hair, and his hairline was extremely receded exposing the entire top of his head. He was sporting incredibly realistic horns and fangs, against convincingly pale skin. He was dressed in black pants and a rich red, cape like jacket that hung down below his knees. I actually don’t remember how our conversation was initiated; I was so engrossed in the genuineness of his get up. As not to offend, I asked if this was his usual form or if he was in costume for a reason. He answered that he was on his way home from performing stand-up comedy down the street. I complimented him on his fabulous duds, and like a child at show-and-tell, he lifted the bald skin from atop his head, exposing a gnarly, what I can only presume to be life like brain, and laughed a demonic laugh with the aid of a voice altering box. Running with the oddity of it all, I suggested he add gooey blood to the brain for effect, and drink some hot tea for his throat. I bid him a good evening to which he replied, “You too. See you later, but you guys got a while”. Wow, I feel like I've been given a new license to live! I'm going to make every day count!

Who needs to go all the way to Nevada to see freaks?

p.s. would NOT date the Prince of Darkness