December 31st, afternoon in the desert (echo: the desert the desert the desert) near Joshua Tree, near Indio, near Coachella, a mere dozen yards from the border of a military testing site -- we tried to camp there yesterday and were warned off by polite, clean-cut men with big guns.

It was cold last night, and loud -- I went to bed around mid- night, having given up on the music (nice, but it never grabbed me)...at one point somebody was playing really good, old-style psytrance, and I was about to get up and pull on lots of clothes and go dance when the power went off. Shortly after it returned they switched to newer, darker, more minimal psy- trance and I decided to stay in bed.

That's pretty much when this started, this document, this chronocle, this thing I'm writing. I don't know yet whether to treat it as more of a trip report or as a letter to you, my love...but I suppose it can only be both.

On a Monday in June, I loaded myself and a couple friends into my van and went on a pilgrimage to the desert near Bishop, way out East on I395.

When we arrived the sound system hadn't started up yet, so we set up camp and I helped park cars for a while. The music that night was fairly interesting techno.

The next day, John Kelley played house. He played some of the cheeziest house tracks I've ever heard -- but somehow, it all worked. And I began to form a theory (more on that later.)