Relatively Named: An Update of Relative ImportanceThe newsletter that keeps changing its name because everything, including this, is relative
Greetings, Reso-nauts, spacetime drifters, and people who definitely meant to sign up for that volunteer shift last week,
Everything Is Getting a Name (Relatively Speaking)
We've been out here naming things. Not because things need names, a parking lot by any other name would still smell faintly of sun-warmed dashboard and forgotten granola bars, but because it's fun, and the theme is "Everything is Relative," and we have exactly zero impulse control.
So. Without further ado, and with some ado retained for dramatic effect:
Parking Lots: Space and Time
"Where'd you park?" "Space." "Nice, I'm in Time." You are now a physicist. You're welcome. Also, they're relative. Also, we're insufferable.
Walk-In Camping: Inertia and Momentum
Inertia is for the hammock-dwellers, the nap-enthusiasts, the bodies-at-rest-tending-to-stay-at-rest. Momentum is for those who arrive on foot and simply… keep going. Which one are you? Trick question. You're both, depending on your reference frame. (See? Still insufferable.)
Car Camping: Redshift and Blueshift
Same light, different frequency. Redshift: you're stretching into the distance, chilling, receding from the core at a leisurely cosmological pace. Blueshift: you're compressing toward the action, buzzing, vibrating, possibly on top of a speaker stack. Your car is the light source. Choose your wavelength.
Pathways: Worldline, Lightcone, and Geodesic
Your Worldline is the path you trace through Reso spacetime, every meander, every wrong turn, every accidental arrival at exactly where you needed to be. Lightcone is where paths fan out; it's the intersections, the crossroads, the "wait, which way to the temple?" spine of everything. Geodesic is the straight shot, the connector, the shortest distance between Here and There. There probably has snacks.
Streets: Singularity, Horizon, Causality, and Eternity
Singularity is the main drag, all known rules break down at its core, much like Saturday night. Horizon is the boundary; cross it and default-world physics no longer apply. Causality is the street of consequence (left for art, right for bass, straight for find-out). Eternity is where time gets weird, a ten-minute walk takes an hour, and suddenly it's Thursday even though you swear it was just Tuesday.
Theme Camp Areas: Cluster and Nebula
Cluster is dense, established, the returning camps packed wall-to-wall with brilliance. Nebula is diffuse, generative, the cloud where new stars are born. Both full of light. Both full of people who will absolutely offer you a grilled cheese at 2 a.m.
We Need Humans (That Means You, Specifically, Reading This)
Pre-Event Setup: Two Glorious Individuals Wanted
We are looking for exactly two humans to join us onsite Monday and Tuesday before the event for setup. You will be:
Fed. Properly. Not just granola bars.
Housed. Shelter! Provided! Yes!
Showered with goodies. Metaphorically. (Or literally, we don't know your life.)
Not expected to lift heavy things. Seriously. No heavy lifting. Zero heavy. All vibes.
You get to stay for the event
If this sounds like you, or someone you know who owes you a favor, reach out. ec@wichitaburners.org.
Doozers Need People (Build All The Things)
Remember when you arrived at Reso and there were structures and shade and things that stood upright? That doesn't just happen. Doozers are the builders, the hammer-wielders, the "no, the other bolt" sayers. They need hands. Your hands. Sign up.
Gate Needs People (Permission to Enter)
Gate is where you become the first face someone sees after driving through Kansas for four hours. You check tickets. You radiate welcome. You hold the sacred clipboard of entry. Also, you get to say "welcome home" approximately eight hundred times and mean it every time. Sign up.
Parking Needs People (Space. And Time.)
Parking. It has names now (see above). It also needs volunteers to help folks navigate it without recreating the gravitational collapse of a dying star. Direct traffic. Point at signs. Occasionally say "nope, other way." Sign up.
HQ Needs People (The Nerve Center)
HQ is where questions go to be answered, where lost items find temporary homes, where the radio crackles with purpose. You will be the calm in the storm. Or the cheerful chaos in the calm. Depends on the shift. Sign up.
All shifts are four hours. All volunteers get a meal per shift. That's a meal-to-shift ratio of 1:1, which is frankly unbeatable math. Sign up, and then drag a friend into signing up too. Peer pressure, but make it community.
Stage Sign-Ups Coming Next Week
Listen. Do you have something to share? A poem? A dance? A TED-style talk about the semiotics of parking lot nomenclature? A yoga session? A DJ set that will rearrange the molecules of everyone within earshot?
Next week we're dropping a sign-up sheet for stage performances. Consider this the infant version of a center camp, small, scrappy, and full of potential. We'll provide the backline: microphone (if you need one), speakers, amp, and the associated whatnot. You bring the talent, the nerve, or at minimum the enthusiasm.
Slots will fill. Be ready.
Obligatory Weird Animal Fact
The hoatzin, a bird found in the Amazon, digests leaves by fermenting them in its gut like a cow. It is, essentially, a flying ruminant. It smells like manure and is widely known as the stinkbird. But wait: hoatzin chicks are born with claws on their wings, which they use to climb trees before they can fly. If they fall into water, they swim under the surface until they reach safety.
So, to summarize: it's a claw-handed, swimming, cow-stomached bird that smells terrible and is somehow still thriving. The hoatzin has no natural predators, not because it's dangerous, but because everything else in the rainforest simply decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Relatable.
In Closing
Names have been named. Roles need filling. A stage awaits. A stinkbird persists.
Deadlines close September 1. That's tickets, vehicle passes, driving passes, theme camp apps, all of it. Do not test the spacetime continuum by pretending deadlines are relative. Some things, unfortunately, are absolute.
With love, mild chaos, and cube-shaped enthusiasm,
The Reso Team
Check the News section on the website for forms, updates, and more whimsical nonsense
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