It was August of 2017 that I finally moved to China. Like a lot of people witnessing the first year of the Trump presidency I could see the writing on the wall, and it was well past time to leave America. I remember searching for two things, things that would determine if Shanghai was really the place I wanted to live.
1. Is there Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and
2. Do they have a regional Burning Man event? The answer to both of those questions was yes, and so off I went.
Two and a half years later, the story’s been interrupted by a global pandemic - pesky ol’ thing - and for a moment, there’s space for reflection. Upon looking inside and back, it’s becoming clear that my life has been completely altered and the course I’m following radically realigned towards some new destination. Burning Man and my introduction to Cacophony are the catalysts for that change as well as the stories you’ll find if you continue. The song they sing might not sound like a perfect harmony, but isn’t that just what we were looking for?
I get it, I get it: it’s Cacophony.
So what the hell is Cacophony?
No matter who you are, where you were born, what you believe, or how you live your life, you’ve almost definitely seen this sign before:
“STRICTLY NO DANCING ANIMALS ON THE GRASS”
Punishable by Angry Whistleblowing and Finger Wagging
And isn’t it just so obnoxious? It’s perfectly good grass calling out to be enjoyed, like a stage. And by golly how better for this stage to be enjoyed than by a host of dancing animals. You walk to the edge of the yard, nervous now, sweating inside the oversized onesie you bought for this specific act of rebellion. To your right, a dragon, to your left a sloth, and behind you a flowing river of people who are going about their day adhering to the sign. STRICTLY NO DANCING ANIMALS ON THE GRASS. They aren’t.
You cross the threshold, breaking all the rules of common civic decency. And then, you begin to dance, letting out the wildest aspects of your animal nature. You swing your oversized and flaccid giraffe neck while the cow starts to twerk. What a tremendous, bold act! This is real activism. These here rascals in animal onesies are sewing a disorder and chaos so abrupt and complete the likes of which shall never be again seen by their ancestors or kin alike! Cacaw!
The sheep (hah!) courteously abiding their way down the path by not stepping on any grass, are now snapped out of that rigid focus. They’re late for work but can’t help their neck and eyes being possessed and their attention dragged to you. BANG, eye contact. Now they’re in. They’re here, with us. Now. Dancing. You can almost see a flicker of the onesie they might be wearing beneath their business suit. The moment lasts until the end of time.
WWWWWWWHHHHHHIIIIIIIINNNNNNEEEEE.
Now there’s four park security guards huddled on the edge of the lawn yelling at you, raging even. All this loud noise. All these voices, and in Chinese no less. But you submit and get off the grass because you don’t want these guys to get in trouble for your stupid grass shenanigans - they’re just doing their jobs. Fair enough. But shit, now what? I’ve got all this great energy from dancing in public dressed as a giraffe and I don’t want to waste it. The herd stumbles to a Family Mart to buy an excessive bag full of cans of beer and reminisce about the crossing of that small metal gate protecting the inner sanctum of holy grass. See, Cacophony is less about systemic activism, and more an activism of the self. Or at least that’s one way I look at it.
A friend of mine once referred to us as an echo. I like that. An echo of an attitude or sentiment that’s resonated its way through time to catch us more than 40 years removed from those personal revolutions of daily life being had down by the Bay, across the Golden Gate Bridge, through Haight-Ashbury. The Shanghai chapter of the Cacophony Society to this day has more fun than anyone else I know. It’s a space to engage with vulnerability and presence. It’s a way to discover and take ownership of your own creative liberty, generating freedom internally through the act and spirit of playfulness.
