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Greetings and Welcome Home to the Black Rock Desert! I am Matthew — sometimes known as “Groovy” out here — and I will be your guide today. (This shot provided by my playa-neighbor, Matthew R. Jones. Dude knows his way around a freakin’ camera. You live in Modesto? Need a photographer? Hire the man.)

The gates of Black Rock City opened just a few short hours ago, at 12:01 a.m. I had camp pretty much set up and ready to go by the time the sun rose.

My Wakean friends will grok why this rocked my world: My second morning on the playa, and who appears on the rug in my shade structure but H. C. Earwicker! Sadly, he had obviously hitched a ride out here with me (what few insects do live in the Black Rock Desert are entirely unlike this guy), and was close to death, not even having the energy to run when prodded. Totally dessicated, the poor little bugger. I ended his suffering.

I camped at roughly 5:45 and Gremlin. Nearby, at 6:00 and Fairlane, was this AC Transit stop. (The 14 bus, sadly, never arrived.)

Here’s a yearly fixture up at Center Camp: the Black Rock City Post Office. “There’s no ‘team’ in ‘Fuck You.’”

A view inside Center Camp. Playans a-chillin’.

I was fond of these empty-headed figures that inhabited the tent at Center Camp; wish I’d snapped a better photo of ‘em.

Out on the open playa, there seemed to be fewer works of art to enjoy this year. This piece was a standout, though. It made loud ticking sounds, and every half-minute or so, the recorded voice of George W. (or Dick Cheney or Donald Rumsfeld) would issue from it, saying something terribly stupid.

The Black Rock Playa: A perfect place for enormous Tetris blocks.

He’s the reason we come. He’s what we’re here for. He has to Burn. He is the Man.

The Man draws mutant vehicles all day long. I snapped the next few shots from the viewing platform beneath the Man. Oink!

Ping!

The event’s theme was “American Dream” this year, so we saw a lot of art and art-cars that dealt with themes like patriotism and free speech …

… but other mutant vehicles don’t seem to be about anything in particular at all.

Another mutant vehicle parked near the Man.

This was perhaps the most moving piece of daytime art on the playa this year. Let’s get a closer look at these figures, and peek inside that teepee.

Laughter, Love, and Vision.

The chair was papered with the United States Constitution.

Optimism, Wilderness, Fairness, and Compassion.

Inside the teepee, we find this.

The idea is, you writes yer answer, and you hangs yer paper.

The citizens of Black Rock City hereby pledge allegiance to:

The reading in here was wonderful.

Here’s a Black Rock original — the Bummer!

The Bummer, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Bummer, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Bummer, Black Rock City, 2008.

One tent out on the open playa contained this enormous Scrabble board. Every now and again someone would spell something new, but I never saw an actual game being played here.

I do not think the rules are being followed.

This was a lovely little temple-ish structure not far from the Man.

You call that a mutant vehicle? A shrub on a golf cart? Lame.

Beautiful white temple-ish structure, Black Rock City, 2008.

Close-up, beautiful white temple-ish structure, Black Rock City, 2008.

This enormous structure was called Babylon. At ten stories tall, it was the tallest thing ever built in Black Rock City. The view from the top was stunning both day and night.

I only got one picture from the top of Babylon that looked like anything at all …

This is the only picture I took from the top of Babylon Tower that came out looking like anything at all. Someone did a nice job.

Ooh! Something for Burners to climb on!

Pretty red metallic flowers. Did they light up at night? I think so, but I don’t think I ever saw them after the sun went down.

Way out by the barrier fence stood this imposing bit of work.

One afternoon, my neighbor, the Turtle Man (of Turtle Camp), gave away more than a hundred wedding dresses. Another neighbor of mine, Brantley (front and center) refused to let the girls have all the fun.

Maren and Mikako, residents of Turtle Camp, lookin’ quite fine.

Dusk descends on Black Rock City.

Another nightfall shot from late in the week.

Once the sun goes down, you get a delightful color show up in the sky, but then it gets dark real-quick-like.

Okay, let’s check out some nighttime fun in Black Rock City. Here we’ve got a blurry look at the most memorable concert I’ve been to in five years on the playa. These folks called themselves Tango In the Dust, and they played Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours album from start to finish. (Hence the Lindsay Buckingham wigs on the two guys to the left of the shot.) They encored with “Rhiannon” and “Tusk.” They absolutely kicked ass. You don’t often hear classic rock performed live in Black Rock City. This was an unbelievable treat that I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

Not a great shot; I was hoping to give you a sense of the size of the tent this performance took place in. There was enough room for the band and a few dozen people. Everyone else was literally on the outside, looking in.

The female vocalists of Tango In the Dust refused to sing “Oh Daddy,” so this member of the band took up the challenge, but not before alerting us that the tune is “just so awful.”

“If there’s been a fool around, it’s got to be me. Yes, it’s got to be me! YES, it’s got to be ME!”

Of course, there’s no better nighttime fun in Black Rock City than Burning the Man. Giddyup!

As always, mutant vehicles of all shapes and sizes ring the major burns (the Man, who burns on Saturday, and the Temple, which burns on Sunday). This bus was called the Groovebomb.

The best shot I got (and from afar) of a chickenheaded mutant vehicle. Yes, its crest was aflame.

An even worse shot (still from afar) of a mutant vehicle that looked like the Golden Gate Bridge.

When the Man’s arms go up, it’s time for him to burn.

Ignition!

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

When the fireworks are over, the blaze kicks in.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

There are always a few fireworks somewhere in the structure that don’t go off when they’re meant to. When the flames reach them, we find out where they are.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Burning of the Man, Black Rock City, 2008.

His left arm dropped off early in the burn, but his right arm is only now beginning to droop and fail.

You can just see the structure beginning to buckle in this shot; it all collapsed a split-second later.

All sorts of danger out on the playa in the hours after the Burn… Yikes! “Abrupt decapitations”!

This is the first of two failed shots of a nighttime piece called “The Pool.” What you’re seeing on the ground there, embedded in the playa, are auto tires that have been rigged up to glow in various colors. The colors change as people hop on and off the tires.

I almost didn’t include these two shots because they so poorly capture this lovely installation, which seemed to impart some sort of serenity on its visitors.

In the hours after the Man burned, I took in a show by the legendary Black Rock bands Gooferman and Mutaytor. Gooferman came first; this is their lead singer during the first or second number.

Gooferman self-classifies their music and their aesthetic as Klown-Fi.

This delightful dancer was, for my money, the most engaging part of the Gooferman show.

A Gooferman dancer, Black Rock City, 2008.

A Gooferman dancer, Black Rock City, 2008.

A Gooferman dancer, Black Rock City, 2008.

The thing about both Gooferman and Mutaytor is that they include amazing non-musical performances as the band barrels down on the groove. Gooferman performers, like all Burners, like to play with fire… .

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

This Gooferman performer balanced a flaming sword on her head while she gyrated and acrobaticized.

And then, this alien came out to spin some fire.

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Gooferman performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor has now taken over. If you ever get a chance to see a Mutaytor show, do it. (They often perform at the yearly Decompression event in San Francisco.) This incarnation of Mutaytor was eleven musicians (five of them drummers!) and goodness-knows-how-many off-the-wall performers, like this female duo who sported Charlie Chaplin outfits (and ‘staches) and did tricks with lit-up canes.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

One of the diversions during the Mutaytor show: A sexy lion tamer took on this Chinese dragon.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

Mutaytor performs at the Red Nose District, Black Rock City, 2008.

One last musical venue to introduce you to: This is a rather grainy (light levels were terribly low) shot of the interior of the Jazz Cafe, located at Center Camp most years. The tall dude in the red jacket runs the show; he’s a jazz guitarist who can play anything at all, and throws down some of the most mindbending solos you’ve ever heard. Other jazz musicians come and go throughout the night, so the lineup is constantly changing. People sit in here for hours, some of them smoking cigarettes, some of them lulled to sleep by the smooth sounds. It is a delightful way to close out a night on the playa.

We’ve got daylight again, so let’s go visit this year’s Temple, the Basura Sagrada.

The Basura Sagrada was made entirely of reclaimed trash, and was the best temple we have had in a few years.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

An alcove in the Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

An alcove in the Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

“Albert Hoffman - R.I.P.- 1906-2008 - Inventor of LSD - Pioneer of Consciousness”

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

“I found my love, the one I’ve been looking for all my life.”

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The columns of hanging junk made the most beautiful tinkling noises when the wind blew. It sounded like metallic rain.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

“May All Beings Be Happy.”

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

There was a man here telling people all about his grandma, the woman in the picture. She loved pistachio nuts and red wine, so he brought some of each to share with people. We ate pistachios and took swigs from the bottle as he told us about this kindhearted person he’d cherished and lost. This. This is what the Temple is about.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Basura Sagrada, Black Rock City, 2008.

The burning of the Temple is the last big event of the week. I failed to get decent pictures this year because of a selfish, tripod-toting photographer who refused to get Down In Front and whom you’ll get to know better a few shots from now.

The Temple Burn, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Temple Burn, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Temple Burn, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Temple Burn, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Temple Burn, Black Rock City, 2008.

The Temple Burn, Black Rock City, 2008. And thanks, tripod-guy.

After the top level of the structure collapsed, the remaining bits burned like this for more than a half hour before finally falling. And then — sniff — it was time to leave Black Rock City.

This is what your car looks like when you return home from Black Rock City.

Close-up of car hood upon returning from Black Rock City. And now, the wait for next year’s Burn begins.