Early in the morning on Tuesday, some anarchist set fire to the man. Yes that big wooden structure that has been habitually placed in the Black Rock Desert of Nevada for the last what 15 years has finally succumbed to the wills of anarchy. Now this strikes me as funny thinking about all the desert goers sitting there going 'Hey they started without me!' And desperately putting on their burn night costuming and running out to the center to watch the Man go up in flames. All done without the pomp and circumstance that has always brought on the ceremony, you know, the fire dancers, the doves, the parading about...well all these things really do make it all an affair to be apart of, but the fireworks? A little over kill isn't it guys.
The boys and I were discussing this last night as I made an honorary dinner in light of the early burning. There was discussion and debate guessing that the true anarchists (yes there are a few that may still attend) have finally begun to take the burn back and place it into the hands of the real revelers. Evidently there has been rumor that a few Green companies have been allowed into the fest this year. With the introduction of more and more companies, whether they be green or the 'evil' kind it's still against the gist of the festival. Lo how the man behind the curtain must be rolling in his silken sheets, fat off the cash that thousands dish out to have their time 'to be me' with so many others taking that time with them. I know these points are a little disjointed but they were actually snippets from our conversations.
So it seems that they are going to rebuild the structure of the Man, before Saturday gets here, since there was too much damage to have him just hanging around, but burning the Man twice? Does that take something out of the meaning or I wonder if that makes the goers more eager to enjoy the act of the burn... not really sure. I think if I were there in the desert I would be a little ticked, and well trying to do everything in my power to reek havoc on the companies that had been allowed to infiltrate. Even if that means chaos, and destruction. After all, "a passion for destruction is also a creative passion." (90's movie Slacker, the old anarchist to the young guy. Gahd I lurv Texas and their quirkiness)
In honor of old anarchists and young alike out there, I give you my recipe for my mandatory pre-Burn of the Man dinner:
Tuna Melts
bread-any kind will do. Bagels, or rolls or anything nice sized and substantial, just make sure that the side without any crust in is the outside of the sandwich. So if it's a bagel, it's a backyards sandwich then!
Tuna-of course
Mayo
cheese
butter
anything that goes from the kitchen.
Now since this is about the last dinner that you will be eating on the Playa, or off as it may be, it's time to use up as much of your leftovers and whatever you haven't delved into yet. And also a must to invite your neighbors over for some also. This is a communal dinner and generally comes out just huge and too much for one or two people alone.
Here goes.
Take a bowl, add the tuna take what ever's on hand for ingredients, personally I prefer things like Salsa, avocado, last night I used artichoke hearts, cherry tomatoes, sun dried tomatoes, onions, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and some mayo -for me the less the better-. Mix everything.
In a frying pan, add a couple of tbsp of butter, let melt then place bread in the pan, add just enough cheese so it'll melt and help stick everything together. Add a butt load of the tuna mixture. Top off with more cheese, and place the other piece of bread on the sandwich. Keep checking the bottom half of the bread to make sure it doesn't burn, and when it's just right take all the sandwiches out of the frying pan and add a couple more tbsp. of butter for the other side. Now add back in the tuna melts, but of course fry the other side.
And enjoy. A nice big beer helps get it all down, but with all that butter it really doesn't need much help going down. And lo this is really one of the meals that I refer to being a heart attack waiting to happen.
Last night I knit, perhaps I shouldn't have because well the night before we blew the keg that was on tap, the Hop Rod Rye and well we put on Pliny the Elder... which happens to be another double IPA, which is about an 8.9% or so. Needless to say I screwed up and lord knows what I did to the poor little Riboli hat, but there's a few stitches off.
Cheers and here's to knitting under the influence!
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