Raining Blood From A Lacerated Tongue
Or, The Afternoon I Stood In A Field and Watched Steve-O Destroy Himself
“There’s nothing I’d rather be doing than hanging out with you guys in some cornfield in Indiana,” Steve-O* shouted, his voice haggard from years of performative vomiting. At least that’s my memory of what he said after stepping onto a small stage while “Raining Blood” blared from speakers on either side. I’d have to check the recording to be sure. Because that’s why I was standing 10 feet from Steve-O in, “some cornfield in Indiana,” to be the third man on a three-man crew documenting the worst party ever held.
The marketing staffs of Stuff Magazine and Keystone Light** teamed up to host, “Camp Stuff,” a two-day, two-night blowout at Deer Creek over Memorial Day weekend. The video production company I was interning with was hired the shoot the party for a sales package that Stuff would use to sell sponsorships for future events.
A battered chainlink fence marked the boundaries of “Camp Stuff,” in a large field a quarter mile east of the amphitheater’s rear wall. There was an “American Gladiator”-style joust, padded sumo suits, full catering, free booze, a huge party tent with pool, foosball and air hockey tables, big-screen TVs attached to Playstation 2 and XBox consoles, Port-o-lets, and portable showers. It was a bro-tastic bacchanalian blow-out designed to accommodate 500 revelers.
Forty showed up.
You see, entry was limited to Keystone Light customers who went online and correctly answered a series of trivia questions printed on cases of beer. It’s likely that one of two things happened; the fine folks at Keystone Light and Stuff overestimated the appeal of “Camp Stuff,” or they overestimated the appeal of a scavenger hunt/trivia game to Keystone Light customers.
That’s how I, the video crew I was interning with, and 40 of Keystone Light’s most motivated customers wound up in a field watching Steve-O cut his tongue with a shard of glass from a broken lightbulb, “charm” a King Cobra out of a basket, and generally do stupid, self-destructive stuff while Slayer’s greatest hits screamed out of the speakers to either side of him.
After his performance, we taped a short interview wherein Steve-O said predictably outré things sure to outrage executives and prove how edgy Stuff was. The whole experience sucked.
I’m not going to lie, I watched and loved the deeply stupid “Landspeed” videos and other spiritual predecessors of “Jackass.” But Steve-O’s shtick turned the volume up from dangerous stupidity to life-threatening nihilism and it was never more depressing to watch than when he did his act for a tiny group of people who cheered for his blood for a few minutes before grabbing another shitty beer and heading to the foosball table.
Worst. Party. Ever.
*To his credit, Steve-O has been sober for more than a decade. I hope he’s content.
**It looks like they are still investing in ambitious marketing plans. I’d love to see the engagement numbers.
Much of the famous life is the normal life if not the ridiculous life.