Hey everyone,
I'm not sure how many of you are aware that we have a TST blog. Most of the emails that have been disseminated recently have actually been blog updates. The reason for the blog is to stop cluttering our emails and start to try and contain discussions in an easy to find format. Email threads can get cluttered and it can be hard to find old posts/comments. With the blog we want to be able to create a forum for discussions that can be found easily by topic. Right now the default for the blog is to send an email to the TST email group for every update. I'm going to disable that function to try and encourage traffic to the blog instead. We will still send all pertinent camp information to the email list but things like camping tips, art brainstorms and other non-essential information will be contained at the blog. Please check it out at http://twilight-spaghetti-theatre.blogspot.com/
As for the fun part... check out the blog for a fun update by yours truly,
Mike (aka Mouse)
Friday, June 29, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
A message from Poda and the Planning Crew
Hey TST Campers!Hope you are all getting excited for the madness that will be Burning Man 2012. I wanted to send out a message that will outline the basic camp plans so far, and what we need from everyone that will be Twilight Spaghetti citizens. Of course there is much more room for developing these ideas, but I wanted to start a discussion so that everyone can get informed and get involved. I think we'll be able to pull off some amazing things this year!
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Anticipating The Burn
Hey All!
How did we get to the middle of June already? There hasn't been too much progress on the planning end, but we've got a pretty good plan in place. The Bay Area crew is going to be grabbing the equipment and starting on the routine maintenance soon and getting our act together on the new builds. We've got to get our act together on creating a new camp sign, formalizing the layout and getting some new artwork for this years theme, Fertility 2.o. The big news is that we are officially placed on the theme-camp list and are eagerly awaiting placement. I'm holding out hope for Esplanade again, but last year was pretty cool being able to relax a bit.
How did we get to the middle of June already? There hasn't been too much progress on the planning end, but we've got a pretty good plan in place. The Bay Area crew is going to be grabbing the equipment and starting on the routine maintenance soon and getting our act together on the new builds. We've got to get our act together on creating a new camp sign, formalizing the layout and getting some new artwork for this years theme, Fertility 2.o. The big news is that we are officially placed on the theme-camp list and are eagerly awaiting placement. I'm holding out hope for Esplanade again, but last year was pretty cool being able to relax a bit.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Budget Breakdown
Welcome back to Twilight Spaghetti Theatre!
Just over 3 months until the man burns... and I cannot wait another #$&*ing minute. Every time I think about it I have to huff that small bottle of playa I keep under my pillow. I wish I was only half joking. I miss all of my fellow TST burners and am excited to meet all the new TST virgins. This year's ticket situation has been a cluster-fuck at best, but the burner spirit always wins out in the end. Ok Mike, deep breath.... ahh that sweet sweet playa haze.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
2012 And Twilght Spaghetti Theatre is back!
After changing our name for years with silly groups like urban pirates and the electric sheep farm we are back and bringing you all the radical participative theatre and spaghetti you could ever eat
Monday, November 9, 2009
The theme is Metropolis
We are thinking about applying for a grant from the burning man project to build an art grant. There is brainstorm of ideas floating around. Lets get them all down on paper and think about them soon.
the real question is what do you see being out on the playa in the year to come. Do you see a grand magnificent form? Do you see a structure static in the ground? Do you see a kite in the air? Do you see an auto-mobile driving round and round? help us see our colletive dream and make it a waking reality.
kind regards,
your local electro-mechanical-hypnotist
the real question is what do you see being out on the playa in the year to come. Do you see a grand magnificent form? Do you see a structure static in the ground? Do you see a kite in the air? Do you see an auto-mobile driving round and round? help us see our colletive dream and make it a waking reality.
kind regards,
your local electro-mechanical-hypnotist
Friday, September 25, 2009
SF Decompression Participation
This is our first year operating a booth at SF Decom
We are making a puppet booth and putting on a massively audience participatory Punch and Judy style show.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Watch 5 Things Cities Can Learn from Burning Man
Personal Message
In the shot with tetris camp you can see the tst's big blue dome just poking out behind crtt's budget rental truck.
5 Things Cities Can Learn from Burning Man
Video:
Burning Man's Larry Harvey says the city the project creates in the desert every year has done some radical things other cities should try
Fwd: The Truth
This guy mentioned us as "Entire "theme camps" exist just to give away spaghetti, " in his article!
By: Jay Michaelson: Columnist for the Forward, professor, and author of three books
"Really?" the guy at the Alamo Rental Car place said, when I'd told him about Burning Man. "I heard it was just a lot of naked people running around on drugs."
Coated in gypsum dust, and still high not on drugs but on the altered consciousness of radical creativity and community, I had just tried to describe what Burning Man is, somehow. I think I'd said something like, "It's a temporary city of 50,000 people, devoted to radical self-expression. So you'll find anything you'd find in a regular city -- art museums, dance clubs, yoga studios -- only in the middle of the desert, with no money, and with more creativity than you've ever seen."
Of the two descriptions, surely Rental Car Guy's is the more familiar. When Adam Lambert revealed that he'd gotten the idea to go on American Idol while on mushrooms at Burning Man, America groaned. The image, I assume, was of a drugged-out weirdo coming up with a loopy idea in the middle of wild, crazy party.
The truth, though, is that Burning Man is an ideal place for self-reflection and self-transformation, whether substance-aided or not, and as someone who's just gotten back from his 8th Burn, Lambert's revelation didn't surprise me a bit. Friends of mine have changed their names, their professions, and their entire lives at Burning Man. And not because they were stoned or tripping, but because Black Rock City -- the temporary city (built and erased within a month) where the event goes on every year, the week before Labor Day -- has a tendency to expand horizons, reveal possibilities, and question the assumptions most of us make about how we're supposed to live our lives.
Burning Man does this, I think, because of a combination of factors. One of them is the sheer size and scope of the thing. 50,000 people. Hundreds of cars and trucks modified to look like dragons, whales, radios, and steamboats; many breathing fire; most with dozens of revelers dancing on them. It's like "Mad Max" meets "Blade Runner" meets "The Ten Commandments," and it's real, it's actually happening.
And it's happening without capitalism. There's no vending at Burning Man -- it's a gift economy. Entire "theme camps" exist just to give away spaghetti, to serve people free margaritas, to make pancakes. Yes, it does cost a lot to get in (between $150-350), but that mostly pays for the rental of the land from the government, the porta-potties and other infrastructure, and grants made to large-scale art projects. No one -- not the celebrity DJs who were there this year, like Armin van Buuren and Carl Cox, and not the people who build the solar electrical grid -- gets paid. No one is making a buck.
This is incredibly liberating. It's not sustainable, but it is a temporary autonomous zone of bullshit-free living. And just being there, just participating in the creation of an entire city devoted to what we want to do, rather than what we have to do to make money, has the tendency to invite self-reflection like Lampert's. Who am I? What do I really want to be doing? If people can create a twelve-ton sculpture of a bird's nest made entirely out of plumbing pipe, what are the limits on my own creativity? "Once you are free," said Baudrillard, "you are forced to ask who you are."
The freedom is more than just freedom from conventional economic life, though. Yes, there are some naked people running around on drugs, because the culture of Black Rock City is a very, very liberal one. (It's not free of law enforcement -- this year in particular, I heard many stories of people being busted for drugs, and for giving alcohol to minor-aged-looking undercover cops.) Of course, how people choose to exercise that freedom is up to them. For every NPRAOD, I'd guess there are two people wishing they had the courage to do so, one person playing the violin on a sofabed in the middle of a desert, two people cooking pumpkin ravioli, and another person writing the name of her beloved on the wooden walls of the Temple -- this year a three-story, Lotus-shaped construction just north of the center of the city, that was burned last Sunday night.
Of course, we don't hear about these other people, which, to me, says more about the puerility of the default world than the sexuality of Black Rock City. It's as if radical self expression is boring, but if it means naked people on drugs, then it's titillating, easy to condemn -- and also comprehensible. Oh, I get it.
You don't get it. You don't get what it's like to have 50,000 people circle around a wooden effigy, with 1000 people spinning fire and 500 more playing drums, all encircled by 200 art cars -- and then all roaring in unison as the effigy is set afire. You might think you get it, and it may scare or tempt or delight you, but I assure you, you don't get it. None of us do, because it's not about any one thing in particular; "it" can be an orgiastic celebration, or the sad mourning of a lost loved one. Or a warm, hippie-like community. Or a mean, Mad-Max-like apocalypse. "It" is chiefly a space in which all these things are possible.
The temporary erasure of societal, social, and personal boundaries is, for most of us, terrifying. Such boundaries help build the structures of society and self; they give form to human life, which is often chaotic and unpredictable. Thus they have been the bedrock of religious and civil life for millennia, even before the Furies were imprisoned under Athens, and Moses descended from Sinai.
But if religion creates boundaries, mysticism and spirituality efface them. In the transcendence of ordinary distinctions, peak experiences such as those encouraged at Burning Man give a glimpse of the ultimate, the infinite. It may seem absurd to suggest that Burning Man is a mystical event. But then, if it's just a big party, why is there a temple in the middle of it?
--
+ m i s s s a b a d o +
www.misssabado.com
THE TRUTH ABOUT BURNING MAN
"Really?" the guy at the Alamo Rental Car place said, when I'd told him about Burning Man. "I heard it was just a lot of naked people running around on drugs."
Coated in gypsum dust, and still high not on drugs but on the altered consciousness of radical creativity and community, I had just tried to describe what Burning Man is, somehow. I think I'd said something like, "It's a temporary city of 50,000 people, devoted to radical self-expression. So you'll find anything you'd find in a regular city -- art museums, dance clubs, yoga studios -- only in the middle of the desert, with no money, and with more creativity than you've ever seen."
Of the two descriptions, surely Rental Car Guy's is the more familiar. When Adam Lambert revealed that he'd gotten the idea to go on American Idol while on mushrooms at Burning Man, America groaned. The image, I assume, was of a drugged-out weirdo coming up with a loopy idea in the middle of wild, crazy party.
The truth, though, is that Burning Man is an ideal place for self-reflection and self-transformation, whether substance-aided or not, and as someone who's just gotten back from his 8th Burn, Lambert's revelation didn't surprise me a bit. Friends of mine have changed their names, their professions, and their entire lives at Burning Man. And not because they were stoned or tripping, but because Black Rock City -- the temporary city (built and erased within a month) where the event goes on every year, the week before Labor Day -- has a tendency to expand horizons, reveal possibilities, and question the assumptions most of us make about how we're supposed to live our lives.
Burning Man does this, I think, because of a combination of factors. One of them is the sheer size and scope of the thing. 50,000 people. Hundreds of cars and trucks modified to look like dragons, whales, radios, and steamboats; many breathing fire; most with dozens of revelers dancing on them. It's like "Mad Max" meets "Blade Runner" meets "The Ten Commandments," and it's real, it's actually happening.
And it's happening without capitalism. There's no vending at Burning Man -- it's a gift economy. Entire "theme camps" exist just to give away spaghetti, to serve people free margaritas, to make pancakes. Yes, it does cost a lot to get in (between $150-350), but that mostly pays for the rental of the land from the government, the porta-potties and other infrastructure, and grants made to large-scale art projects. No one -- not the celebrity DJs who were there this year, like Armin van Buuren and Carl Cox, and not the people who build the solar electrical grid -- gets paid. No one is making a buck.
This is incredibly liberating. It's not sustainable, but it is a temporary autonomous zone of bullshit-free living. And just being there, just participating in the creation of an entire city devoted to what we want to do, rather than what we have to do to make money, has the tendency to invite self-reflection like Lampert's. Who am I? What do I really want to be doing? If people can create a twelve-ton sculpture of a bird's nest made entirely out of plumbing pipe, what are the limits on my own creativity? "Once you are free," said Baudrillard, "you are forced to ask who you are."
The freedom is more than just freedom from conventional economic life, though. Yes, there are some naked people running around on drugs, because the culture of Black Rock City is a very, very liberal one. (It's not free of law enforcement -- this year in particular, I heard many stories of people being busted for drugs, and for giving alcohol to minor-aged-looking undercover cops.) Of course, how people choose to exercise that freedom is up to them. For every NPRAOD, I'd guess there are two people wishing they had the courage to do so, one person playing the violin on a sofabed in the middle of a desert, two people cooking pumpkin ravioli, and another person writing the name of her beloved on the wooden walls of the Temple -- this year a three-story, Lotus-shaped construction just north of the center of the city, that was burned last Sunday night.
Of course, we don't hear about these other people, which, to me, says more about the puerility of the default world than the sexuality of Black Rock City. It's as if radical self expression is boring, but if it means naked people on drugs, then it's titillating, easy to condemn -- and also comprehensible. Oh, I get it.
You don't get it. You don't get what it's like to have 50,000 people circle around a wooden effigy, with 1000 people spinning fire and 500 more playing drums, all encircled by 200 art cars -- and then all roaring in unison as the effigy is set afire. You might think you get it, and it may scare or tempt or delight you, but I assure you, you don't get it. None of us do, because it's not about any one thing in particular; "it" can be an orgiastic celebration, or the sad mourning of a lost loved one. Or a warm, hippie-like community. Or a mean, Mad-Max-like apocalypse. "It" is chiefly a space in which all these things are possible.
The temporary erasure of societal, social, and personal boundaries is, for most of us, terrifying. Such boundaries help build the structures of society and self; they give form to human life, which is often chaotic and unpredictable. Thus they have been the bedrock of religious and civil life for millennia, even before the Furies were imprisoned under Athens, and Moses descended from Sinai.
But if religion creates boundaries, mysticism and spirituality efface them. In the transcendence of ordinary distinctions, peak experiences such as those encouraged at Burning Man give a glimpse of the ultimate, the infinite. It may seem absurd to suggest that Burning Man is a mystical event. But then, if it's just a big party, why is there a temple in the middle of it?
--
+ m i s s s a b a d o +
www.misssabado.com
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