The week of the Sun God festival is a tough time to write a column. My audience — an already surly student body — only cares to complain about the musical acts slated to perform, and to plan on the most efficient ways to procure, drink and then throw up as much alcohol as possible. Also, having just returned from a pre-pre-pre-Sun God party, I’m so wasted I can barely see.
Sun God is exactly what this campus needs to help us survive the soul-sucking vortex that is the end of spring quarter — and to remind us that had we chosen to attend a school like SDSU, we’d enjoy this sort of wild revelry any time we wanted, and even some times we didn’t.
The possibility of getting busted by the massive army of resident security officers, RAs, cattle-prod-wielding administrators and the University of California’s specially bred pack of rabid rottweilers only adds to the fun. It’s the same thrill of getting caught that spurs us to speed 65 mph on streets teeming with children, newborn kittens and snow-white unicorns, or to illegally download four million songs, or to have some “alone time” while staying at our parents’ house.
This we know. It’s a simple fight between good and evil, with alcohol as a fickle ally.
But what I don’t know is why, year after year, no matter how careful and persistent the A.S. Commissioner of Programming is in booking musical acts, we always complain about how much they’re going to suck. Whines of, “Awww, man, Busta Rhymes?” echo through UCSD’s eucalyptus groves — nevermind the fact that we’ve been trying to book Busta Rhymes for years, and in previous years we whined, “Awwww, man, the concert’s gonna suck this year. If only they could actually get someone good, like Busta Rhymes!”
This year there’s the added cry of, “Goldfinger? God, they’re so over!” and, “The Moving Units?” OK, I have no idea what negative things people say about the Moving Units, but I’m sure they find something to complain about. A typical pre-Sun God conversation goes like this:
Student 1: “Awww, dude, I’m so excited about [musical act]! They’re gonna be so fuckin’ sweet!”
Student 2: “No way, man, [musical act] is so lame! The concert’s gonna suck this year!”
Student 1: “You’re right! What the hell were they thinking when they booked [musical act]? They’re gonna blow!”
Student 2: “Amen, dude! So, what time are you gonna start drinking?”
Student 1: “Nine in the morning. You?”
Student 2: “Sweeeeeeeeet, me too.”
I bet that even if John and George were magically resurrected and the Beatles were united solely for our Sun God concert, we would still complain. “Oh my God … those guys did LSD, and LSD is sooooooooooo over,” we’d bitch. Or, “Geez, Revolver was so much better than Sgt. Pepper’s, and I bet they’re not gonna play any songs from Revolver, those British bastards.”
Granted, I’m wholly unqualified to discuss music — I don’t wear black Chuck Taylors, sport strangely placed safety pins on my clothing or have a lip piercing — but I’d like to think I can spot hypocrisy and a pure unwillingness to be satisfied with a fair degree of accuracy.
Sometimes I think the people in charge of booking Sun God’s musical acts should throw up their hands, save many thousands of dollars and book a shitty local band — because students will bitterly complain no matter how much time and money is spent assembling a diverse playbill of reasonably popular and well-known acts.
And, best of all, we could put all the money we’d save by booking Stevie’s Garage Band toward more bouncy toys. Bouncy toys are, very simply, the soul of Sun God. The festival would be nothing without them, because there’s really no purer source of idiotic fun than tumbling down an inflated, cherry-red incline.
Now, to be responsible, I feel like I should put forth some Sun God safety tips, so here they are.
1. Playing Frisbee while riding a bike may seem like a good idea at the time, but it’s also the number-one reason people are rushed to emergency rooms with no skin on their face.
2. If you’re caught doing something illicit by an RSO, don’t run. Walk.
3. Please move to the side of Library Walk before passing out, lest you be trampled by the hordes of students hurrying toward the library to get drunk in the bathroom.
4. Making out with three dozen attractive strangers may give you mono, but it will also give you a feeling of euphoria and self-worth. Weigh the risks carefully before making any decisions you’ll regret.
5. Have fun, but also be safe. Use alcohol responsibly; i.e. don’t operate heavy machinery, such as a TI-89 calculator, after imbibing; don’t get sent to the hospital, detox or jail; and don’t accidentally knock out your roommate with a handle of gin, because they’re sure to be pissed when they wake up the next day and have missed the totally awesome musical acts slated to perform at the festival.
