Saturday, January 2, 2010

burning dreams


originally posted at tribe.net on 17 Aug, 2008

IT’S ABOUT THAT TIME OF AUGUST in San Francisco again. I can feel it in my bones here at the Flying Buffalo Ranch. The fog and wind swirl around the cracking branches of an ancient lemon tree behind my aqua green Behavioral Pit here in the City of Saint Francis, the Savior Saint, our City of Sanctuary.

The trip to Black Rock City was my annual respite from the realities of waking up day in and day out of what we Burners describe as “The Default World”. Sure, living in what most Americans who exist in the profit and wealth driven pisshole of consumeristic society describe as “Sodom in the North” isn’t a bad place to spend the remaining eleven months of the year away from from our weeklong utopia in the Freak Kingdom but even so, San Francisco is still a large city. Life here means dealing with the same wretched realities of uban existence as our friends and cousins everywhere else in the United States…noise, congestion, rudeness and many, many forms of crime and nastiness—the side effects of confining seven hundred and fifty thousand brutish primates into a patch of land surrounded by salt water on three sides.

I’ve been to the playa as a short time participant eight times since 1999-I call myself a short time participant due to the fact that I’m not one of the crusty “Feral People” who spend months prior to and following the event in the desert building and dismantling the city’s infrastructure. I’ve never spent more than nine consecutive days on in Black Rock City. Even so, each three to six day plunge into the joyous mayhem of that semi-primitive temporary desert metropolis left me with the memory of profound experiences that kept me starry eyed and babbling…and making preparations year round for each return trip to Nevada.

No wonder I have dreams about the Burning Man Festival all year round.

My friends Joe and Greg were with me in my last Burning Man Dream and one of the details that has stayed with me from this REM experience from a week and a half or so ago is that the Burning man Festival was now housed in a gigantic stadium. The monsterous structure was decorated with every variety of blinking, pulsating lights you could think of and was still situated just off of highway 34 on the Black Rock Desert, but it was still a goddamned football stadium. When I woke up that morning, I wondered if the association with what was once the high point of every summer for me in my dreams with something as dull and mainstream as professional football was a reflection of the rapid growth of the event. Even though the population of Black Rock City was in the mid to high twenty thousands during my first visit in 1999, the number of participants reached close to forty thousand (if not over that number) on Saturday of my last trip to Burning Man in 2006.

That’s almost doubled. My perception in 2006 was that fifteen thousand more wild eyed drug addled alcoholic lunatic misfits, whether they be tattooed and pierced red state rejects or frat boys named Chad and Olly makes a BIG DIFFERENCE in the vibe of the city. It seemed to me that during the Friday and Saturday before the burn in ’06, there wasn’t anywhere on the playa one could go without being within twenty five yards of another human being. My girlfriend at the time and i found it difficult to find a spot to share an intimate moment that year on the open playa outside the crescent of the city, something that was relatively easy to do during 1999 and 2000.

This is not to say that I’m one of those old hairy groaners who complain in gruff tones about what the Burning Man Festival Used to Be. I love standing in Black Rock City and watching the DPW parade work its way around the playa and I love sitting behind the microphone at Radio Free Burning Man and providing the twisted, eclectic soundtrack to that strange procession even more. Maybe its just that over the past two trips to and from Nevada that the long three to seven hour lines waiting to get in and out of the event have become just too much for me to deal with.

Last year, my ex and I went camping with a small group of burners at a big state park just south of Mt Shasta and were speeding down I-5 back towards San Francisco and the Default World in a matter of minutes.

I’m probably not going to come back to Burning Man this summer. That will make it two years in a row I will have been someplace other than Black Rock City Nevada following eight consecutive years of annually refreshing my spirit, soul and creative energy on the playa. Julia Blib Blib was a major factor in my decision not to buy tickets to the event in 2008—we’d probably had either gone camping again or stayed home on the coming Labor Day weekend if we were still living together. Julia made the last two trips with me to the playa in 2005 and ’06 but the twenty hour odyssey from camp to driveway the last time was too much for her and she vowed “enough was enough” At any rate, I have mixed feelings about not being on the playa for a second year in succession—a large part of my identity, energy and heartfelt love was invested into being a Burner and now it seems like that is all going to change, maybe forever.

But those odd Burning Man dreams still keep coming from time to time, and that’s what makes me wonder.

Do I NEED to spend most of each year thinking about and preparing for a short term experience in a dusty, wind swept community where openness and radical freedom of expression are the norm seeking my spiritual and creative renewal—or can I somehow find a way to live out my own special version of the Burning Man Festival right here in San Francisco?

Time will tell.

Meanwhile, the wind is still whining through the branches of our lemon tree behind the Behavioral Pit. The apples and pears will be ready at just about the time the Freak Caravan begins to creep its stoned, glassy eyed way through Wadsworth, Nixon and Empire on the 447 day and night on that last fine weekend of August.

I’ll probably be here alone in the Default World wishing I was there.

the Mind Control Division


DISCLAIMER--- TO ALL FBI, DEA, CSI, CHP, SFPD AND LLOYD'S OF LONDON INSURANCE FRAUD INVESTIGATORS--ALL MATERIALS CONTAINED HEREIN ARE HUMOROUS SCRIBBLINGS INTENDED FOR THE SOLE ENTERTAINMENT AND ARTISTIC EXPRESSION OF THE WRITERS AND RECIPIENTS.

travelers on major highways will find State Stabbing Stations at predetermined mileage’s, located in weigh stations and seedy roadside rests whenever possible. A fleet of high performance patrol cars operated by the State Stabbing Patrol will cruise the nation's streets and highways, selecting vehicles at random to be escorted to the nearest State Stabbing Station.

once the drivers and passengers of the vehicles are arrive at the Stabbing Station they are stripped naked and injected with a heavy dose of methamphetamine, the occupants of the cars, busses and trucks detained by the State Stabbing Patrol will be issued five inch steak knifes and placed into large corrals in groups of fifty. at a predetermined signal, these hapless individuals will be compelled by now society mind control devices to commence stabbing one another in a methamphetimin-fueled bloodbath. when the carnage is complete, the survivors will be placed on the RattlesnakeTrains and be given Special Assignments with the Now Society Bureau of Mining and Energy located at the terminus of each rail line.

an important component of the now society will emphasize mind control.

the Division of Psychology will employ methods of mind control that have generally been frowned upon in western cultures and by ultra liberals. now society technicians assigned to the Division of Psychology will be given free reign to give random subjects frontal lobotomies and or near-fatal doses of hallucinogens and naturally occurring toxins. citizens in carefully selected urban areas will be subject to sudden abductions by specially trained "yoo hoo" squads who will transport those unfortunate individuals away to hidden desert laboratories where they will become the unwilling subjects in special experiments involving intense sexual abuse.

the mind control methods employed by the now society in conjunction with the iron hand of the corrections department will achieve the effect of keeping a larger part of the population in a constant state of fear and disorientation. the now society will take control of television and radio networks throughout the world in order to broadcast messages which will cause the viewers and listeners unspeakably agonizing pain. the messages, which have been carefully developed by the world's most talented and industrious scientists, will become one of the most feared tools of the mind control division of the department of Psychology because ALL citizens of the now society will be FORCED to watch or listen to these broadcasts for at least ten hours each day. the times during which citizens will be compelled to watch or listen to these programs will of course, be chosen at random. little can be said regarding these state-sponsored broadcasts except that they are all repulsive and horrible to an heart-rending extreme.

the mind control division will operate at the pleasure of the Dictator of Now. psychological domination will always be used by the Dictator of Now, along with swift punishment for one's transgressions, either as perceived or in fact, to indelibly stamp the will of the Dictator of Now on greater global society until the end of time.

the KUSF top 30 as played on the orgasmatrain 01.01.10 3-6 PM



we had an injury on the team this new year's day morning at KUSF, so i volunteered to detour the orgasmatrain to the last third of our annual top 90.3 countdown. it turns out that i wasn't very familiar with much of the music the rest of the jocks at KUSF are burning the laser reading pits out of eighteen hours a day in studio A...i wonder what that means?

here's your playlist of the individual tracks that i played this afternoon. the music department will have a list compiled soon which will surely include the names of the CDs and albums, which i don't write down on my playlists. it'll be available at www.kusf.org...and the audio of the entire day which featured sleeves on hearts DJ irwin, DJ stereo steve and myself is probably being edited by bryan chandler as i type...find it at www.kusfarchives,com

happy new year, everyone!


30) vivan girls--the end
29) deerhunter--forgot to log track name :(
28) the gris gris--year zero

27) ty segall--ms white/and judy just walked in
26) cause cro motion--don't you know
25) mars--hairwaves
24) the rippers--just for one day
23) the fresh and onlys--fog machine
22) the vaselines--you think you're a man
21) yo la tengo--and the glitter is gone

20) mystery girls--i took the poison
19) the puddle--i've lost my way in this world
18) blank dogs--night night
17) strange boys--this girl taught me a dance
16) apache--crystal clear

15) black moth super rainbow--iron lemonade
14) grizzly bear--dory
13) mirah--while we have the sun
12) waves--california goths
11) waves--waves
10) death--politicians in my eyes

9) sonic youth--anti orgasm
8) wooden shjips--motorbike
7) vetiver--strictly rule
6) juana molina--no llama

5) black lips--again & again
4) king khan and the shrines--the ballad of lady godiva
3) the love me nots--i'm the one
2) animal collective--my girls

1) the oh sees--destroyed fortress reappears/the turn around

7th Hour

8th Hour

9th Hour

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

the hashbury breakfst served aboard the orgasmatrain 6-9 AM 12.30.09 best of 2009 special



ANIMAL COLLECTIVE--WHAT DO I WANT? SKY
gala drop--holy heads
big city orchestre--begettle
the oh sees--destroyed fortress reappears
rusted shut--heart of hell
brutal truth--evolution through revolution

HUDSON MOHAWKE--GLUETOOTH
subway--lowlife
GIFT OF GAB--SOME OF THE PEOPLE
mor thiam--ayo ayo nene (spiritual jazz)
amadou & mariam--campagnon de lavie
oumou sangare--iyo djeli

tigran hamasyan--the awakening of mher/mithra
MIRIODOR--AVANTI
the inner space--apokalypse
harrapian night recordings--lila derderba
david hurley--cosmic moon march
OOIOO--POLACCA
hynotic brass ensemble--alyo

DAM FUNK--CANDY DANCIN'
THE BUDOS BAND--UP FROM THE SOUTH (DAPTONE GOLD)
theron and darrel--i was made to love you (eccentric soul)
THE CLONIUS--IF JOE HAD THE POWER
hashim b--tokyo to LA steez (echo expansion)
herman's rocket--space woman (jean pierre massiera psychoses freakout)
carolyn hester coalition--magic man
pisces--children kiss your mother goodnight
jerusalem--beyond the grave
crime in choir--crystal cake

shogun kunitoki--mulberg


CAPS = CURRENT RELEASE
parenthesis = compilation title

1st Hour

2nd Hour

3rd Hour

the rattlesnake train

This is a horrible story about the Rattlesnake Train — what it is, who gets to ride on it and what happens to them while they’re travelling on the Rattlesnake Train.

The Rattlesnake Train is reserved for all of the undesirables in American Society today — corrupt politicians, white collar criminals, yahoos who steal art at Burning Man and the like — nasty, filthy scum from society’s t’aint. The Rattlesnake Train’s passengers are selected by the Rattlesnake Court. The Rattlesnake Court consists of me and whichever of my closest friends want to help me decide who gets to ride the Rattlesnake Train on any given day. Rattlesnake Court hearings are often boisterous affairs, punctuated by wild yelps of terror and interrupted by bouts of heavy drinking by the Rattlesnake Justices.

Once sentenced to the Rattlesnake Train, the miscreants chosen for this unique experiment in Social Engineering must often be fooled into boarding. This is often done by using the false promise of fine food and drink in a faux dining car without rattlesnakes and the special sound system (which I will explain later). Many passengers board the Dining Car without knowing they have been convicted in absentia by the Rattlesnake Court of Crimes Against Common Sense, Decency and Humanity. At first, all guests on the Rattlesnake Train are very well fed by the Dining Car Staff, until they feel the call of nature. This is where the fun begins — not so much for the passengers on the Train, but for the Staff who man the hidden cameras and operate the sound system.

Passengers on the Rattlesnake Train who need to pee or poop are directed to a special door leading to Car Number Two on the Rattlesnake Train. Once passengers have gone through this door, there is no returning to the Dining Car, or society as they know it. The door is an unfortunate one way man trap, as are all of the doors in the train, except for those endowed with possession of one of the Master Keys. Car Number Two (affectionately referred to as the One Way Shithouse Car by Train staff) is the beginning of a dreadful nightmare for those chosen by the drunken Rattlesnake Train Commissioner and his twisted cronies on the Rattlesnake Court.

The One Way Shithouse Car is filled with the stench of human excrement, since passengers have no toilet bowls or urinals to relieve themselves in, and they are forced by staff in hazmat suits to empty their bladders and bowels on the bare metal floor of Car Number Two.

Car Number Two is also where guests meet the first of the rattlesnakes, from which the Train begot its name, and also where the special sound system installed in all cars-except the Dining Car-begins to take its toll on the passengers.

From the One Way Shithouse Car to the specially modified GP-90 locomotives, the Train teems with rattlesnakes, of all shapes and descriptions. The train is also kept very, very hot, a heat almost beyond the range of human endurance. The snakes are fed live rats, which also live their lives in every nook and cranny of the Train not occupied by rattlesnakes, guests or staff. Rattlesnakes, being the unpredictable, temperamental creatures that they are, constantly buzz and strike at the terrified guests of the Rattlesnake Court while the constant sultry voice of the Snake Seductress on the sound system — alternating at random intervals with the senseless ranting of the Junkie Shaman — keep the passengers in an endless state of confused horror and revulsion.

The Snake Seductress describes in graphic detail the most twisted and deviant sexual acts, interspersed with her long, low moans of pleasure. The speakers from which these sounds are sent through the train vary in quality and volume — some are small tinny plastic things scavenged from old computers and others are large high quality stage monitors, not unlike the ones you might find at a Y and T concert.

Guests on the Rattlesnake Train will also be heavily drugged at all times, usually from the methamphetamines and LSD pumped through the water fountains. The stimulative effects of these dangerous drugs are well known, as are the high risks of psychosis and other horrible side effects. Passengers on the One Way Shithouse Car and the rest of the train will constantly run screaming through the cars, unable to understand what is happening and why they are in such horrible pain, or why they can’t sleep.

Going back to the physical description of the Train, and what happens on it, the One Way Shithouse Car has a one way door at it’s other end as well, which leads to the infamous “Sleeping Car”. This car is usually the one in which guests first receive a huge dose of pure methamphetamine, and the car in which the sound system is turned up to full volume at all times. Here in the “Sleeping Car” is where the horror of living with eighty thousand rattlesnakes without being able to rest or sleep begins to really take hold. Special Rattlesnake Assistants in Heavy Duty Rattlesnake Bite Proof Suits (HDRBPS) are waiting at the door to assist the victims of the capricious Rattlesnake Court to their quarters, or so the passengers think. Once the detainees of the Rattlesnake Court are escorted to what they believe are to be their beds, the unfortunates are tied down and forced to listen to Rattlesnake Radio — all the while being smelled at, crawled upon and sometimes bitten by rattlesnakes who have been given special Rattlesnake Drugs. The guests are usually subjected to this treatment until the next group arrives from the Dining and One Way Shithouse Cars. Sometimes the passengers are sexually tormented while they are waiting to be transported to the next car on the Rattlesnake Train, but this is at random — once chosen to ride on the Rattlesnake Train, you have no idea of what is going to happen to you next.

By now, a reader should have a pretty good idea of what the Rattlesnake Train is, and the horrific atmosphere on board. A full description of each of the sixty cars that the Rattlesnake Train consists of would be rather tiring to me, since my imagination and creativity have their limits. (Perhaps you, the reader, can come up with ideas for the cars, as long as they are excruciatingly painful to the rider, and horrific and offensive to an extreme.) I can tell you that besides the “Sleeping Car”, there are the Rave Car (where guests are forced to dance to 9000 BPM trance), the First Aid Car (where the snakebites are attended to, but also where salt and whiskey are poured on the open wounds before they are treated) and the Casino Car, a car in which I will ask you to use your imagination to determine what happens. Throughout all of these cars, the central theme remains the same — they are all filled with big, mean, hungry rattlesnakes and diseased rats — while the sound system constantly broadcasts twisted messages from the Snake Seductress and the Junkie Shaman.

The Rattlesnake Train is part of a large operation funded by the Now Society and administered by the Rattlesnake Commission. The Now Society will take the place of all world government after the Great Final Upheaval in the Near Future, which is a very nerve-wracking story we shall save for later. Rattlesnake Trains will have the right to passage on all railroads on both American Continents, and Consolidation Hubs in New York, Miami, Atlanta, Houston, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Seattle. Collection Hubs will be located in Denver, Salt Lake City, Chicago, Columbus and Pittsburgh, Pa. These hubs, of course, will be obtained by the Now Society through the Rule of Eminent Domain. Once all guests are properly assembled on trains at the Consolidation Hubs, their journey on the Rattlesnake Train will begin in earnest.

The Rattlesnake Trains making Final Runs after the Consolidation Centers will be routed around the circumference of the United States of America, and by this I mean all along the borders with Canada and Mexico and along both coasts. After finishing this pain-wracked Tour of the Americas, the trains will enter Mexico and begin a trip down the west coast of Central and South America, along the spine of the Andes to Argentina. There, if the guests have survived this brutal and psychologically demanding ordeal, they will be released and given kayaks to make their way to Antarctica. They will not be allowed under any circumstances to return to the United States, nor will they be released to the custody of an South or Central American nations. Once the Rattlesnake Court has invited you to come along for a special ride, the Rattlesnake Rules apply, and there are no exceptions.

And nobody leaves the Rattlesnake Train without one final confrontation with the Junkie Shaman.

The Junkie Shaman is the Spiritual Conscience of the Rattlesnake Train. His presence permeates every nook and cranny or the train, and his keen senses detect every iota of suffering by the train’s passengers. When a rattlesnake sinks its fangs into a detainee’s arm, it is the Junkie Shaman’s incisors that break the skin. Every bite a passenger takes of Recycled Human Flesh and Organ Schmeat on the Forced Dining Car the Junkie Shaman infects with the stench from his rotten mouth and soul. When a rat squeals in pain after being bitten by a rattlesnake who wishes to eat the rat, it is the voice of the Junkie Shaman you hear through the dying rat’s throat. There is more to tell you about the Junkie Shaman and each guest’s Final Conversation with him, but the Journey of the Rattlesnake Train is coming near to its end, as are the pages of this nasty little story.

The long-suffering passengers on the Rattlesnake Train have been carted several thousand miles through North, Central and South America on a diet consisting of nothing but LSD, water and methamphetamine. The meal which was consumed on the first Dining Car counts, but most of the passengers on the train have been without solid food and in a state of near-starvation for nearly a month.

Rattlesnakes, starvation and dangerous drugs bring up the matter of death and how death is dealt with on the Rattlesnake Train. One of the answers to this question may seem a little distasteful to most — and if you’re uncomfortable about reading on, stop now. The Rattlesnake Commission has decided to deal with death and its accompanying cadavers by using Cannibalism as a measure to combat many unpleasant issues involved in running a snake-filled Prison Train. Guests on the Rattlesnake Train are eventually fed one more meal before the end of the train’s journey on the Forced Dining Car. You have read in a previous paragraph about the Human Flesh and Organ Schmeat that the passengers who survive the greater share of the journey will be fed. This concoction is also mixed with bits of dead rattlesnakes and rats. The Rattlesnake Commission recognizes that people who have been fed a steady diet of powerful stimulants and psychedelics are not in much of a mood to consume solid food. Psychedelic drugs in particular can have the effect of causing many of the solid foods we eat in a normal state of mind look particularly unattractive. The Staff on the Rattlesnake Train deals with malnutrition amongst its drug-addled guests by means of forced feeding, hence the Forced Dining Car, which is one of the last dreadful cars on the train.

Once again, Rattlesnake Train Staff goons wearing HDRBPS are waiting at the one-way door to the Forced Dining Car. A huge number of guests are so fucked up on hard drugs that they are oblivious to what is going on around them and where they are going-these guests are easy to strap down and have tubes forced down their mouths. The passengers who have an apparent immunity to LSD and speed often struggle wildly, until they are subdued by the HDRBPS boys — are the ones who are told straight up that they’re being force fed human flesh with bits of dead rats and rattlesnake. These guests will also be the first ones escorted into the Flogging Car, and the Decompression Car, which are the final two cars on the Rattlesnake Train before they face the horror of the Final Confrontation with the Junkie Shaman.

The Junkie Shaman normally retires to his personal lounge at the end of the Rattlesnake Train for the last five hundred miles or so. His world is unlike anything any of us have ever experienced — he is in constant contact with the Realm of the Undead and he is impervious to physical, spiritual or emotional pain. The Junkie Shaman is able to live for years at a time on an incredible diet of nothing but drugs and alcohol and he can survive long periods of zero gravity and blazing heat greater than the surface of any star in the universe. The Junkie Shaman’s only joy is to look into the bleary eyes of a human being who has been beaten a level lower than a person thinks he can be beaten — and then to drive his barbed penis straight down that hapless soul’s throat and out of his or her ass.

That is the climax of the Final Confrontation with the Junkie Shaman. The passengers who have survived the journey on the train thus far are a hardy lot, men and women with strong constitutions and imbued with genuine mean streaks. These people have been beaten with rubber hoses, physically and mentally abused, branded with hot irons, had every orifice in their bodies penetrated with foreign objects of all sizes and descriptions — not to mention being forced to eat a stew of rats, rattlesnakes and human flesh and been given little more than powerful stimulants and hallucinogens as their daily substance besides that. Alas, even after all of this, nothing can prepare these sad creatures for what may or may not be the horrific end of their journey.

The Junkie Shaman has clipped his own ears with sheet metal clips, which adds to his already ugly-and-bizarre-beyond-belief appearance. His fingers and toes bristle with fingernails he has filed into ten inch claws, and his enormous throbbing red barbed penis is always laid out before him. His breath smells like a million rotting corpses and his voice sounds like the cacophonous, dreadful end of the world we live in. To look into the Junkie Shaman’s yellowish-green serpent like eyes is to view two monstrous orbs of hellfire itself — many unwitting men have been permanently blinded when they awoke recovered from a vivid hallucination only to be face-to-face with the Junkie Shaman. The Junkie Shaman can speak to mortal humans via many channels, by means of telepathy, through electrical fields or by simple voice language. All three are horrible, physically painful beyond comprehension and the Junkie Shaman uses all three forms at once when he is angry. The Junkie Shaman is often enraged.

Before the Junkie Shaman sodomizes each surviving guest at the end of the journey, he endeavors to indoctrinate them in the Ways of the Undead. He also expounds on the Wisdom of the Unreality for a long time, then he suddenly begins to beat the terrified guests into submission using a simple red baseball bat with small screws driven into it. Then he talks to them again for a while, sometimes muttering and growling in the Three Voices before he brutally sodomizes the passengers with his enormous, horrible barbed red penis — until the guests are numb with pain and shock while bleeding profusely from every orifice.

This excruciating beating and sodomisation mark the end of a passenger’s odyssey on the Rattlesnake Train. Those who do not survive this Final Confrontation with the Junkie Shaman will find themselves in the Forced Dining Car. Guests who survive will find themselves being pushed into the ocean in a kayak with maps and navigation equipment designed to get them to Antarctica. This is the end of the road for those dirtbags specially chosen by the Rattlesnake Court, one more chance to redeem themselves before the Eyes of the Righteous, and to prove to the Unseen Powers That Be that they deserve to live.

The Rattlesnake Train is not meant to be a deterrent to various crimes against Common Decency and Sensibility by the court — rather it is meant to be an Instrument of Spite to be used to strike fear into the heart of any individual who dares commit any Crime Against Man deemed by the Now Society to merit consideration by the Rattlesnake Commission. Those who are chosen to make the long journey on the Rattlesnake Train are constantly reminded that they are the most reviled walking, breathing waste products of humanity. The Now Society form of World Government has found a way to deal with undesirable characters and ne’er do wells who prey upon the good and well meaning people in modern society.

Those who have nothing but contempt for their fellow men will be treated with contempt by the Rattlesnake Court and be invited to take an enchanting Tour of the Americas on the Rattlesnake