Star spangled Kap
One of the best descriptions I’ve ever heard about the Burning Man experience was spoken a couple of years ago by a fellow who had just returned from Da Playa. In the course of us trading tales about the Burn of ’14, he said, “You know, what I discovered about living out there is that Black Rock City is one of the few places in the world where you can act like a real human being.”
I asked him to elaborate, and he explained that, on the streets of BRC, you can smile at strangers and greet them without feeling like a fool or a weirdo or a freak. That you can get into a conversation while standing in line to take a leak, and it just might turn out to be the best conversation you have that week—or that year! Yes, the spectacular stuff is spectacular, and the art ranges from the sub-lame to the sublime, but, for him, it was the simple, human moments that really stuck.
But I wonder what the B-Man Brain Trust can do about the traffic, which is now firmly entrenched in the OMFG zone. From reading the traffic Twitter updates—and no, I didn’t go out this year—the travel scene on Labor Day afternoon was such outrageous gonzo gridlock that the dudes posting the tweets just basically began to beg people to forget it and leave on Tuesday. What possibly can be done about this nightmare?
I can’t stand it. After listening to all these media bucketheads poop in their pants about Kap’s Star-Spangled protest, I just have to remind people—and I realize I’m preaching to an educated, well-informed choir in This Space—that Kap’s kneeldown during The Anthem is not about dissing (1) the military, (2) the flag, and (3) the memory of those who died on September 11. OK? Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. All he’s doing, as far as I can tell after reading his comments, is protesting the shooting and killing of unarmed black men by racist and/or terrified cops. That’s it. And goddammit, that is indeed something to protest.
What then amazes me is not that Kap is doing what he’s doing, but that he’s basically doing it by himself. I mean, for fux sake, there are around 1,700 players in the NFL and at least 1,100 of them are black, and none of these guys gave a damn about rogue cops murdering Laquan McDonald in Chicago, Tamir Rice in Cleveland, and Freddie Gray in Baltimore? We shall see, as more may join in. In the meantime, Kap has managed to do the unlikely—inject actual interest into our tired old boring national anthem.