Note that Burning Man has settled on a theme itself... the Seven Ages...
"Our theme in 2001 takes the form of an enormous board game. The object of this game is the attainment of wisdom. In order to achieve this goal, participants must pass through successive stages of life. The theme of our game is choice, striving, trial and transformation."
Below are listed the theme areas that will comprise The Seven Ages:
SYMBOL/ROLE | THEME | PLACE |
The Infant | First Things | The Cradle |
The Child | Pure Play | The Playground |
The Lover | Commitment | The Chapel |
The Soldier | Struggle | The Coliseum |
Burning Man | Enlightenment | The Temple of Wisdom |
The Justice | Reflection & Decision | The Maze |
The Pantaloon | Remembrance | The Mausoleum |
I don't know about any of you, but considering what LiveJournal is all about, it sounds like we should be tied in with the whole rememberance theme.
If you were wondering where this theme developed from... well, it's Shakespeare:
All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and the entrances.
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard*,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon*
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.