A local creator is pitching what sounds like the fever dream lovechild of a Renaissance Faire and a Mexican wrestling match, wrapped in absurdist comedy. They say they grew up going to the kind of weird, immersive shows that used to define San Francisco's cultural identity — the stuff that made this city genuinely interesting before every other storefront became a boba shop or a failed AI startup.

The question being floated: would SF actually show up for something this unhinged?

Let us answer that with a counter-question: what else are you doing on a Friday night? Paying $19 for a cocktail at a bar where the music is too loud and the vibes are mid? Standing in line at a pop-up that's really just an Instagram photo op with overpriced tote bags?

San Francisco has always been at its best when it leans into the weird. This is the city that gave us the Cockettes, Beach Blanket Babylon, and that one guy who's been roller-skating down Market Street in a thong since before most of us were born. The creative fringe isn't a bug — it's the entire operating system.

What's actually concerning is that the creator seems genuinely unsure whether the city would support this. That uncertainty says something about where SF culture has drifted. We've become so dominated by tech-launch parties and city-approved "activations" that grassroots, gloriously chaotic art feels risky. It shouldn't.

From a Dissent perspective, this is exactly the kind of thing that thrives when government gets out of the way. No grants committee needed. No DEI audit of the Viking narrative. Just someone with a vision, a ring, and presumably a very confused rabbit.

We say book the venue. San Francisco's weirdness isn't dead — it just needs someone bold enough to put it on stage and let it body-slam the audience.