This is pretty great.

Susan Sarandon on Jimmy Kimmel talking about Burning Man, and hosting a ceremony there for Timothy Leary’s ashes.

It’s amazing to feel the air of sheltered, comfort-seeking, aristocratic entitlement flowing through Jimmy Kimmel’s wimpy, immature Being as he embarrassingly tries to have a conversation about Burning Man with Susan Sarandon.

I suspect his energy is representative of most of Hollywood.

I’d love to see a side by side juxtaposition of a day in the life of Susan Sarandon at Burning Man with a day in the life of a typical Hollywood celebrity during the Saturday when the Man Burns…

Comedically, in Hollywood, I see Lulu Lemon yoga pants, with Shih Tzus in sports cars, having psuedo-spiritual yogic awakening experiences demarcated by narcissistic selfies, followed by an afternoon of meaningless cocktail gossip, embellished by psuedo-spiritual tantric sex with lines of coke whisping off the naked surgically perfected breasts of a high priced escorted. This scene would be cut with them lying in bed with look of self-satisfied smug bliss gracing their shallow face.

Fade to black as we then witness a procession of lights, music, signing and dancing as Timothy Leary’s ashes have one last caress of the divine barren desert of the Playa before evaporating into the heavens.

Two lives.

Both but a dream.

The sword of Prajnic invective over and out.

Can somebody call in some gods of compassion to clean up this disintegrated darkness?