(aka: how to start an in-paddock event at Kiwiburn)
There are two types of people at Kiwiburn:
those who go looking for something to happen,
and those who accidentally invent a tradition because they got bored near a beanbag.
This is a guide for the second kind. Or for the first kind, on the brink of becoming the second.
Every “event” at Kiwiburn. Every packed out, word of mouth, “you had to be there” moment
started as a deeply unserious idea that someone took just seriously enough.
Case in point: Sprongus the Rat.
Sprongus did not exist on the schedule.
Sprongus, to my knowledge, had no clear origin story, or moral alignment.
And yet, at some point during the week, people began stealing Sprongus from theme camps.
Not maliciously. Not even discreetly.
Ceremonially.
Sprongus would be taken, transported across the paddock, and subjected to questioning.
Gentle questioning. Intense questioning. Possibly accusatory questioning.
Who are you, Sprongus?
burners, et al
What do you want?
Who sent you?
And then, just as mysteriously, Sprongus would reappear somewhere else,
only to be taken again.
No sign-up sheet. No infrastructure. No centralised leadership.
Just a shared, escalating commitment to the bit.
That’s a shenanigan.
Lower Your Standards Immediately
If you are waiting for:
- a full plan
- the right gear
- consensus
- confidence
- or a laminated sign
you have already missed the window.
A shenanigan does not arrive fully formed. It crawls out of a conversation like a slightly damp idea and says, “I think I’m happening?”
Name It Something Slightly Too Serious
The success of your shenanigan depends entirely on how disproportionately official it sounds.
Examples:
- The Bi-Annual General Meeting of The High Council
- Emergency Disco
- The Symposium on Sitting Down
- Competitive Lying
- Sunset Debrief (Attendance Mandatory, Debriefing Prohibited)
People trust titles. Titles imply infrastructure.
There is no infrastructure.
Start With Whoever Is Already There
Do not go looking for a crowd.
A true in-paddock event begins with:
- you
- two friends
- someone passing by who made eye contact and now regrets it
That is enough.
Kiwiburn runs on a simple operating system:
“something appears to be happening → I will approach it.”
Your only job is to make something appear to be happening.
Even if it is just you holding a rat and asking it difficult questions.
Create a Rule (Then Break It Casually)
Rules can give your shenanigan shape. Breaking them gives it life.
For example:
- “Everyone must speak in questions.”
- “No one is allowed to stand.”
- “You must introduce yourself as someone else.”
Hold the rule just long enough for people to understand it…
then gently let it unravel.
Commit Harder Than Feels Reasonable
The difference between “confusing moment” and “iconic Burn memory” is commitment.
If you say it’s a:
- Kidnapping → create a consent form (shoutout to the theme camp Creature Lab)
- ceremony → imbue it with unnecessary gravitas
- competition → declare a winner with absolute authority
Half-commitment kills a shenanigan.
Overcommitment resurrects it.
Escalate Without Explaining
This is where a shenanigan becomes a thing.
Do not clarify. Do not summarise. Do not step outside it to make sure everyone understands.
Just… escalate.
Sprongus is no longer a rat.
Sprongus is a suspect.
Now a witness.
Now the only one who knows what happened.
Now missing.
Now, somehow, back.
Let It Go Feral
If your shenanigan is any good, you will lose control of it.
It will outlive you.
Someone else will:
- run it differently
- misunderstand it completely
- make it better
- make it worse
- keep it alive in ways you didn’t intend
You will hear about it later like folklore.
This is correct.
You did not create an event.
You introduced a door for other people to step through.
You Are Already Underqualified (Perfect)
You do not need:
- experience
- permission
- a camp
- or a particularly good idea
Worst case: it lasts five minutes and becomes a story.
Best case: it lasts five minutes and becomes a tradition.
Because the magic of Kiwiburn isn’t just what’s built—
it’s what’s allowed to happen.
A thing appears.
People gather.
It grows legs.
It becomes the story people tell later like it was inevitable.
It wasn’t.
Someone just started it.
Maybe next time, that someone is you.
Or maybe it’s you holding Sprongus,
asking questions you’re not prepared to hear the answers to.
Princess x
Image credit – Daniel Wagner
