My Hat

My hat for Burning Man is a Sorcerer's Apprentice hat from Disneyland. It has mouse ears. I've always loved it, though I hardly ever get to wear it. At Burning Man you do what you want to do, and as they say in New York, "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." So I'm going to make myself a matching cape. Richard is going to make me a magic wand. It will be magic because I am magic. My dearly departed friend, Marty used to say that all the time.

How did I get caught in this cynical cycle I've been in? The truth is I've always been a believer. I believe in reincarnation, contacts from people who have died, energy healing and psychic intuition. I believe there are evil people who do black magic. I sometimes see auras. Among other things. But there is no sort of organized system that I belong to. The things I believe are based on direct personal experience, like out of body experiences and spirit guides.

But most of the time when I get involved with "new age" types, they are so full of shit I can hardly stand to be around them. There is just a wheelbarrow full of bullshit they buy into, and they tell you all about it as if it was fact. So periodically I get cynical about all of it, and I withdraw into a narrow view, where I pretty much give up on all of that new age stuff.

And then being cynical just gives me the blues. So at Burning Man I'm going to be myself. I'll give people Tarot readings and Reiki treatments. Wear my hippie clothes. Tape poems all over my trailer.

To hell with cynical and resigned. I'm leaving that shit home.