There are plenty of chief executives and wealth creators at Burning Man too, in love with their own micro-celebrity, hosting (that’s tech-speak for picking up the check) dire imitations of excess. I’ve seen more genuine decadence in unknown Berlin clubs than in that entire face-painted, drug-soaked annual festival of self, but to hear these “Burners” rabbit on, you’d think they’ve reinvented the profligacy of Nero’s last days. Yet somehow it’s become unacceptable to criticize this celebration of mutual congratulation.
I didn’t know Burning Man turned into a geek trade show like SXSW.