Under the canopy of a massive geodesic dome in the desert, a 500-foot-long hot dog blasted off into space. A sea of revelers, many clad in blue fabric patterned with red doughnuts, flailed around like contortionists to a funky rendition of Richard Strauss’ “Also Sprach Zarathustra.” I was among them (sans doughnut outfit), screaming and laughing and crying and moving with the involuntary spasms of someone being exorcized, fully sober but feeling as spacey as the hot dog itself.