Tag: burning man (Page 2 of 3)

What is with you people and the hats?

“You people? That’s racist.”

You can’t be racist against Burning Man hotties.

“You can be racist against anyone if you try hard enough.”

Today’s racism lacks elbow grease.

“Just no gumption to the bigots lately.”

Tom Hanks?

“He’s lazy, and steals.”

Wow.

“See?”

Why is there something instead of nothing?

“An empty question that self-negates. Nothingness needs somethingness to exist: it is the Other academics love capitalizing so much, but only arises in opposition to Self. Silence is only noticed in the cessation of sound, not measured positively, but in absence of energy.”

What is a ‘thing?’

“That which is not anything else.”

You just started a recursive loop.

“Which started the whole world crying.”

Are there drugs in your hat?

“Yes, there’s drugs in my hat.”

May I buy you a chimichanga?

“Yes, but I have a boyfriend, and all he does is fuck and party.”

What?

Oh.

“ALL I DO IS FUCK AND PARTY!”

I got it.

“COME FUCK AND PARTY WITH ME, BROTHER!”

No, I’m gonna throw myself out the window.

You’re very practical from the shoulders up.

“And the boots.”

And the boots.

“I believe in the Touareg aethetic.”

What about the terrorism?

“Not as much, but the bad guys always have the best clothes.”

Floor-length leather greatcoats.

“Knee-high jackboots, and skulls everywhere.”

Something so sexy about red and black.

“Let’s run away to Mexico and be Nazis.”

Why Mexico?

“Deutsche Mark goes further down there.”

Further?

“Farther?”

Let’s just say you get more bang for your buck.

“If it will end this conversation, sure.”

I thought we were going to be Nazis.

“No.”

Oh.

“Besides, I’m dating a man dressed in a mascot costume who’s face-down in the mud.”

What?

…

Hey.

…

Yo.

…

…

…

Yeah, he’s dead.

The sun is in your vagina.

“That must be what draws people to it.”

How’s the arch support in those things?

“Walk a mile in them.”

What is patience?

“To forbear; to foreswear.”

Just a little patience?

“Yeah, yeah.”

What’s the longest word in the English language?

“‘No’ seems to last for a bit longer than the others, doesn’t it? Or pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, if you’d rather be humdrum about things.”

Say it once and it sounds like praying.

“Say it twice and it sounds like you were doing deep breathing exercises next to an active volcano.”

Is that what that means?

“Lava-induced pneumonia.”

Weird that it happens so often that a word is needed.

“But heartening to know that it happens so rarely that the word is stupidly long. If it happened all the time, it would be ‘a cold’ or ‘the flu.’ We talk about that shit so much they needed one-syllable names.”

Your linguistic theories are fascinating. May I do yoga with you?

“Are you asking sincerely, or are you using ‘yoga’ as a euphemism for grabbing on me?”

The second thing.

“Hmm. I’m sorry, but I’m dating someone. And you’re simply not up to my standards. Any of them.”

I can’t argue. Who’s the lucky fellow?

“Not a fellow. I’m dating The Most Confusing Flag In The World.”

What?

Eww.

“OH, I GUESS YOUR SO-CALLED TOLERANCE ONLY EXTENDS SO FAR, HUH!?”

Yes. It’s not an open-door policy.

“FUCK YOU, WEAKLING! DEATH TO SOMEONE, OR EVERYONE, OR NO ONE. I DON’T KNOW WHO I HATE, BUT IT’S SOMEONE!”

I wish I had more material so I didn’t have to do this bit.

You look cool.

“Yes.”

Can I be your friend?

“Maybe.”

When will you let me know whether it’s going to be yes or no?

“Right now.”

Okay.

“No.”

Aw.

“In a way, aren’t we all faceless?”

No. Not unless you’ve been struck by lightning or mauled by a chimp.

“But in another way, haven’t we all been struck by lightning and mauled by a chimp?”

Yes.

“There you go.”

Why do we care about celebrity?

“Celebrity lies at the nexus of two facts about humanity: we love to gossip, and our brains are incapable of discerning between a photograph and real life, at least when it comes to storing memories. I mean, you can usually tell photos from real life on a day-to-day basis.”

Sure.

“How old is photography? The Age of Image is a new one, and our cortexes can’t figure out fiction from fantasy. We can’t understand our own creation. In terms of evolution, humanity has outkicked its coverage.”

This sounds suspiciously like evolutionary psychology to me.

“It is, so you should probably ignore it. Fun to spout off at parties, though.”

Who would win in a fight: equinox or solstice?

“Equinox, because it means ‘night horse’ in Greek.”

It almost certainly doesn’t. Are you wearing a cape?

“I thought there might be a press conference later.”

What is Truth?

“The rabbit leading on the greyhounds, chased but never caught. Those who claim it, lie; those who seek it, fail; a preoccupation for poets and the idle, a nuisance for most else. What good is Truth? Live in lies, happy and plump. Wanna know the Truth? Water-skiing is a blast.”

It totally is.

“You’re on top of the water! The best.”

Can we hang out? I won’t be weird, but everyone else here is scaring me or had their security remove me from their Sabbath dinner.

“You’re on probation. My friends all ran away from me.”

Literally?

“Yes.”

“THE NIGHT HORSES ARE AFTER US!”

Equinox is Latin, dammit.

“THEY HAVE HOOVES MADE OUT OF MIDNIGHT!”

Oh, fuck this.

Cockatoo?

“Buy a girl a drink first.”

You have many accessories, but not too many.

“Less is best. Fewer is super.”

Both of those things almost mostly rhyme.

“Every language uses rhyme; it’s a universal feature of grammar; it might make someone believe in Noam Chomsky’s bullshit.”

You just argued for Universal Grammar.

“I said there were universal features of grammar, not that there was a Universal Grammar. If we’re going to talk about linguistics, you need to pay attention to the words.”

Can we stop talking about linguistics, then?

“What shall we discuss?”

What’s the opposite of a glacier?

“An airplane exploding.”

When does a pond become a lake?

“When it turns 13; 15 in Mexico.”

What happens if your pants go any lower?

“They’re off.”

What a lovely thought.

“You seem mildly acceptable, perhaps–to others, not me–but I’m married to my career. In fact, I need to get back to the Bolshoi immediately.

The what?

“MY NAME IS MIKHAIL BARYSHNIFUCK AND I WISH TO DEFECT FROM SOVIET RUSSIA!”

This goddamned bit is killing me.

“DID YOU EVER SEE THE RED SHOES?”

Oh, don’t bring up The Red fucking Shoes.

You look so wholesome.

“It’s the boots.”

Shouldn’t you clothe yourself?

“Shouldn’t you not tell women what to wear?”

I didn’t mean it that way.

“How did you mean it?”

You’re standing in a sandstorm.

“My outfit is modeled on Bedouin garb.”

Really?

“This is what they wear under all the flowing bullshit.”

Wow, didn’t know that. What do you get out of Burning Man?

“What you put into it. And what it puts into you. And what others put into you. One becomes semi-permeable, is my point.”

Your underwear has pockets.

“They’re tactical panties.”

What do you fear?

“That ambition is hollow, and the future dull. The blind curve. And overhead fans you turn on by pulling the little chain; I always thought I might pull the whole ceiling down by accident.”

Is your strength that great?

“No, but workmanship can be that shoddy.”

What’s the 121st greatest Bruce Springsteen song?

“The one about the car and the girl.”

Wow.

“I have a boyfriend.”

Damn.

“Doesn’t have to be bad news for you.”

…

Is he dead?

“He needs to be buried. Dead? I’m not a doctor. He needs to be buried.”

And then you’ll be my girlfriend?

“Sure, yeah.”

Let’s bury this chomper.

“Yay! I promise I won’t kill you, too, and toss you next to him in the grave you dig.”

What?

“Nothing. I think you’re handsome.”

Really?

“Yes. Get the shovel, baby.”