Closing the Deal - XXX-Day 2000
After the nightmarish HELL that was my trip home from XX-Day last year, I
swore that *this* time I would get plenty of sleep for the trip home. Making
a 10-hour, 500-mile drive after already being awake for almost 24 hours nearly
killed me; nothing happened on the way home, but the effort of making sure
nothing happened wore me out more than anything else I had ever experienced.
Never again. Fortunately, the Rupture would be taking place a full three days
after the final day of the XXX-Day celebration, so I planned ahead and
prepared to stay an extra day, returning home Monday after getting a good
night's sleep. This proved to be one of the wisest decisions made, and it's
something I *strongly* recommend for next year...especially since "Bob" and
those goddamn Xists have forsaken us AGAIN!
DAMMIT! It's July 5th as I write this, and I STILL haven't been Ruptured.
"Bob," you owe me an explanation and a lot of money! But at least this means
we'll be gathering together at Brushwood once again next year...for once
again, the weird happenings at Brushwood made the entire journey worthwhile.
This was the first year I'd braved the pilgrimage in my own car. My previous
car had been smashed on May of 1999, on the very day I proposed to my Queen,
and I didn't get a new car until last September. So this time I headed out on
the road in my own green car, nervous and paranoid in case something happened
and left me stranded on the highway, 500 miles from home. But the car
weathered the journey well (time to take it in for an inspection next week),
and not only that - the gas mileage was great, too! I only had to fill the
tank twice each way, and I possibly could have gone the entire distance on one
single tank. But it was better not to take that chance, and I did have to
stretch my legs every so often anyways. It was rather amusing that *every*
single rest area on Route 90 contains the exact same setup: a fast food
restaurant, gifte shoppe, bathrooms, and cart stands selling sunglasses, maps,
and -- New Age silver rings and jewelry?!? Whose bright idea was it to hawk
this crap at every single stop?
The voyage along route 90 took me from the very first exit in New York State
to the very last one - Exit 61, with a big sign proclaiming "Last Exit In New
York." From there it was a jaunt through downtown Ripley, and then onto
Route 76 to Sherman...and Brushwood! Like a beacon of Slack it stood before
me...and a mile up the road, just before turning into Brushwood, someone had
posted a Dobbshead bumper sticker onto one of the road signs. What's more,
that sticker had evidently been there for two years now, because it still said
"July 5th, 1998 7 AM." Nonetheless, I was here again, it was Wednesday
evening -- and it was time for XXX-Day!
And among the first Slack bestowed upon me was the good fortune of where I
chose to camp. I was situated in between the campsites of the Duke of Uke and
Doc Frop and Sister Decadence...ESPECIALLY Sister Decadence. What a
Uberfemme! Not only is she one of the most luscious babes in our entire
Church, but she is *also* one of the sweetest, standing tall right next to
Suzie the Floozie as a towering icon of Slack. (If any other Church has icons
that can approach Sister Decadence, then sign me up!) Doc Frop is one helluva
lucky bastard for marrying this woman, and I made sure to let him know that.
(I also had the pleasure of providing quickie breakfast to Sis Dec and Doc
Frop on Thursday and Monday morning. Praise Pop-Tarts!)
A good number of the loyal Heirarchites showed up and pitched camp on
Wednesday, especially Popess Lilith von Fraumench and one of the stars of IRC
#subgenius, Sikki Nixx. But Lilith was a sight for sore eyes, as she always
is. She worked way too hard over the weekend, though her efforts certainly
paid off. Jesus and Mary Magdalen also were there, and it was then that I
noticed a strange necklace around Jesus' neck. That was my first glimpse of
the "Bob" Icon, something that would be revealed to us all later that weekend.
Wednesday night at midnight was the first "official" meeting of the Brushwood
staff. The agenda was supposed to be to plan for the upcoming weekend, but
other than assigning the initial positions we didn't do much more than B.S.
Yep, that was a true SubGenius meeting, all right. I had accepted the
position of Head of Security without really understanding what the job
entailed, other than the fact that I was supposed to walk around, look at
people, try to keep folks from drowning in the Pond, and confiscate fireworks.
(Fireworks are illegal in the State of New York -- at least until the Xists
arrive -- and we were required by law to confiscate any that we saw.) This
last duty was the one that occupied most of my time, as I spent most of the
weekend keeping a constant vigil for fireworks. I took pride in instituting a
policy that would require random midnight raids for fireworks, full-body
cavity searches for fireworks (you never know where they might hide them),
blood tests and urine tests for fireworks, and of course a Constitutional
amendment to Protect The Children from the evils of fireworks. By the time
Sunday rolled around, the SubGenius Re-Education Camps had been packed to the
gills, and we hadn't seen any fireworks. (Doc Mojo notwithstanding.)
Ahhh...the savory sensation of ABSOLUTE POWER!
And so, my patrols as head of Security took me from one end of Brushwood to
the other. Fortunately, that provided many opportunities to see the sights --
and the things we did see! For starters, I'm surprised that no one on
alt.slack has mentioned Ed Strange's PVC Percussion Organ! Truly this was an
inspired creation: Nine lengths of PVC pipe, cut and assembled together in
such a fashion that if you hit one with a proper instrument (which Strange
provided), it produced a sound not unlike the plucking of a bass. Think of
Sting during his Police days and you have an idea of what the PVC Organ was
like. At one point, Chas from ESO was jamming with one of the pagan drummers,
who beat out a rhythm that made us wonder if this would be what paganism will
be like in 200 years, when environmental pollution has killed off Mother
Nature for good. Maybe when paganism embraces PVC...
And if *that* wasn't enough, there was also the astounding sight of the
Inflatable Troutwaxer Mansion! The incomparable Boddisahtva Troutwaxer and
his wife (or wife-to-be - they were married on Sunday, July 2nd) spent an
ungodly amount of time constructing an amazing inflatable pavailion, full of
inflatable chairs and couches, decorated with inflatable decorations and
plastic, and sporting a giant plastic banner saying simply: "SEX." This was
brilliant, if for no other reason than this: it contrasted so completely with
the natural-green-Mother-Earth-paganistic stuff surrounding us that it simply
stuck out like a sore thumb. It stood out from the crowd like few things we
had ever seen at Brushwood before. Praise Troutwaxer!
And this doesn't even count the PEOPLE who were there! Many friends were
there that I hadn't seen in a full year -- Stang, Jesus and Magdalen, Suzie
the Floozie (she didn't arrive until Friday morning, along with Pee Kitty and
Papa Joe Mama), Phloighd, Siouxsie Sakamoto, Pope Phred and Saint Andreux,
Armand and Barbie Geddyn, kevbob, and so many others...but they were joined by
the newcomers who we had never seen before in person. (Well, that I hadn't
seen before, anyways.) I was suckered into joining a posse of guys who all
got together to introduce Rabbi Jacklyn Hyde to Brushwood for the first time,
and to put her tent together for her; and I also saw a number of newbies who
had never been to X-Day before and were apparently anticipating nonstop orgies
from dusk to dawn.
And then there was Zorro. Those of you who met him certainly won't forget
him. I certainly won't.
--
First Online Church of "Bob"
http://www.modemac.com/
Original file name: Closing the Deal at XXX-DayŠ
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