dodgy dreads

so. four days, in the same location as every year, exquisitely set up with superb attention to detail, incredible music, fantastic weather. i felt a bit woozy on the drive up, but at some point got over whatever it was (i'm guessing a disagreement between my back and the seat) and even the drive back was a pleasure.

food was an issue - and i suspect i know why. i believe that the people who usually attend the festivals and sell food are just as sick of the arsim as the rest of us.

what's the difference between heaven and hell? the populations. the arsim are a cancer in israeli society, and the tumor has metastasized. you know what happens when you take an ars to a transformation festival? he transforms the festival into a pissing contest between the ugliest of what our species has to offer.

the art installations were crushed, the water flowed freely from the taps for four days and three nights (in view of the lack of lake kineret), cigarette butts burned down slowly everywhere they weren't dampened by hocked loogeys, and i suppressed the urge to photograph the horrors of the abandoned camping sites when we left because the results would be more depressing than the bare memories. i wonder how much of the litter and trash piles weren't peed on, the ars "thank you" to the cleaning staff and volunteers.

the festival grounds were overrun by people who looked angry all the time: even their "letting go" seemed contrived and - if their expressions are to be believed - somewhat painful. "stomping" was replaced by "waving arms and elbows in everyone else's faces", alpha males stood coolly in front of (and well beyond violating the personal space of) anyone who might have been enjoying themselves, impatient and often downright offensive hand gestures were the order of the day...

... i guess it would be okay if acting like an ars would get these people "in" with the others, but it appears that being an ars only means having less fun and constantly needing to prove yourself to everyone else.

all of the symbols of the trance / new age / alternative movements have been misappropriated by people who cannot leave the stupidly egotistical baseness of their realities at the door. heck, at some point the security guards actually has to jump someone trying to get in with a firearm. i've now spent days reconsidering growing dreads because so many of these pathetic creatures sport them. i now appreciate why the police pulled me over for looking like them. boy, have i been sheltered.

in a nutshell, the four day festival was replaced by a seemingly never-ending night in a violent club on the ars side of town, and i held out hope that by the last morning / early afternoon the ratio would drop and the doofers would come out to play; but that hope was unfounded, and by the time we got the car packed i was so uncomfortable with going back through the gates that i couldn't even make the rounds to say goodbye.

i have drawn the conclusion that the light side of the trance movement is dead or dying in israel, and is beyond resuscitation. RIP doof in particular: your music is still king, but your kingdom has been burned to the ground. i, for one, won't be going back.

in fact, i believe that's the end of my participation in the trance scene in this country in general. it's yet another message telling me that i need to make my home in another land.