Computers

The people of San Francisco are truly at peace with the computer. And it's not relegated to the nerdy fringes, but culturally dead center, with the hippest scene -- the whole Burning Man thing -- organizing itself through websites, email communications, and "virtual communities" (there's nothing virtual about this community). They plan events by email distributions, and afterwards post pictures and little messages dripping with wry insinuations and double entendres on their websites.

I went to a party organized by one of these virtual communities at a rented out boyscout camp. The whole thing was loosely presided over by an order of transvestite nuns called the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (they sign their emails "the best, bar nun"), who conducted several weddings complete with confessional and communion ("Tongue kiss the flesh!"). There was poolside raving (anytime there's a loud sound system they call it a rave here) and there were vintage 70's porn movies. All wore costumes to complete the severance with mundane life and culture. I've heard this whole insane aesthetic best described as "ritual as art".

These people are something like their burnt out counterparts the hippies, only whereas one grows to suspect that most hippies are in favor of peace and love simply because a) they're helpless and would get crushed by anyone with any strength and b) they want to be left alone to do drugs and nothing else, these people are extremely capable, and participating in society, usually as website designers or something cyber but also as working writers, artists, etc. It's just that they go to these retreats and take ecstasy and participate in "smut pyramids" which is a pile of people intertwined like snakes blindly groping each other and kissing whatever body part comes closest to their mouths, and "smut carpets", which is a bunch of bodies lying on the floor groping with abandon.

People also partook of "body shots", which are shots of tequila ("ta-kill-ya") washed down with salt licked from whom and where you want. As everyone was at poolside wearing either a bathing suit or nothing, people were finding their salt in some creative places. There was also talk of incorporating a "body carrot" into the next party, though its exact nature was left unspecified.

These characters are the players of the Internet Generation, thoroughly awash in cyber drugs, computer music, and crazily engineered culture. Some are right out of William Gibson novels, wearing ensembles such as circuit-board jewelry over a worn motorcycle jacket.

And while they're the underground, the mainstream feels their pull. On San Francisco radio you'll hear advertisements for websites, and on cars you'll see bumper stickers that read "How's my driving? Access http://www.fuck.you". It's in the air here: you hear reference to the internet in overheard conversations, and in every cafe for a quarter you can log on to a computer and check your email.