Richard believes the most visually stunning part of the day on the Playa is, well, night. And if you see Dr. Megavolt, you're inclined to agree. Here, the good doctor poured lethal rivers of lightning from his Tesla coil at a nearby metal cage. Anyone could take a turn inside. But since touching the cage would be a singularly bad idea, Dr. Megavolt led the crowds in chanting "Don't Touch The Fucking Cage" with each new contestant.

Far safer, but still fun is always the 3-D spectacle-enhanced tunnel of lights at Magic Glasses Camp.

Perhaps my favorite place to visit at night this year was a small temple built to burn in honor of a Burner who, tragically, was killed by the Senderistas in Peru, last year.

At the opposite end of the metaphysical spectrum was the Space Virgins' Parthanon, and it's nightly dance scene.

A group of glass blowers set up a glory hole (fnar) on the Playa, and crowds gathered nightly as they added on to this structure.

So much of the week passes like a dream. Likewise, so would a visit to Paddy Mirage, a completely authentic faux-NYC-Irish bar out at the end of the city. Barely squeezing past the crowds bellied-up to the bar for Guiness, you'd find yourself back out on the open Playa, without a beer, quite convinced you'd just seen a mirage.

Richard may be right. After all, at night, the fabulously fake giant crystals at one dance camp seemed quite real. Except for maybe the lasers coming out of them.

And when else will you see the multitudes of fire dancers ringing the base of the Man?