I have never been to Burning Man, nor do I have the intention of ever going. I like my comforts too much. I do wonder if that makes me weak or cowardly in some way, but at least I won't spend hundreds of dollars to suffer for a week in some misguided attempt to be someone I'm not.
Below is a link to a critique of Burning Man, which describes the event exactly as I always imagined it. (I think I may have originally seen this in one of the previous threads Hhuck posted.)
Burning Man: Our Review - Vox
Now, the authors claim that this is a satire not to be taken too seriously, and offer a follow-up piece (below) to soothe the Burning Man fans who were offended by the first review. I find it telling that the follow-up piece, rather than talking about the good moments of Burning Man, or at least saying "It wasn't really all that bad," reads more like a confirmation and defense of the original critique.
Tim’s Blog
Note this comment from the critique:
I’ve been to a dozen weekend campouts with music and partying and have enjoyed each one immensely. None of these events cost more than $75 and often included meals. All were held in beautiful locations with plentiful water, usually in the mountains. No profits were collected and none of us were burned. Most of the participants were beyond friendly: downright open, affectionate and loving. This was not the case at Burning Man.
If you're considering going to Burning Man, let me humbly suggest that you find and attend one of these other events instead.
I consider myself weird and non-conformist, but you'd never know it from looking at me or seeing how I live. One need not dress up in a costume or behave like a yahoo to be subversive. In fact, the most effectively subversive people are those who look completely normal. So I'll end with this quote from the authors' follow-up piece, which I relate to strongly:
If there is one redeeming quality of Burning Man it is the idea of letting people be their true selves for one week. For some, this is achieved by walking around with their cocks or coochies in full view or perhaps by dressing as a furry dog with no pants. In my mind, this is the most dull and superficial kind of weirdness [emphasis mine] and is about as creative as trick dog poo...My weirdness does not involve costumes, glow sticks, pacifiers or gratuitous nudity, but is no less profound. My friends and I could all teach postgraduate courses in weirdness, despite our pedestrian dress.