Surfing is a contrived ritual and the freesurfer represents, beautifully, the pointlessness of the act.
The current crop of freesurfers have a hard time of it. People seem to hate that they get to surf all day and don’t seem to do anything meaningful.
BeachGrit has been unkind too: Chas pondered why they are such disappointments when they could turn things on their head. I, too, have been harsh. I concluded that they are knee-capped by confusion and their need to fuck. I suggested it was a malaise that plagued white kids in general. I’d go as far as saying it is part of the modern existence so many others have lamented. I stand by this claim. Their so-called rebellious gestures are impotent (Noah and the WSL), their anger lacks gravity, their airs, though technical and impressive, are meaningless.
Yet, I admire them. I admire them for their ability. I admire them for their lifestyle and I admire them because they’re the embodiment of modern-day impotence. Why? Because I can’t escape that feeling of modern-day impotence myself.
I shouldn’t feel like this.
I’m 30, comfortable in my own abilities, in a healthy long-term relationship and I have a good job with excellent career prospects. But I feel empty, without purpose (the essential ingredient for impotence), prone to bouts of aimless anger and compelled to engage in empty gestures of defiance and stupidity. The highlight was being 19 and putting a shotgun in my mouth. I can’t remember if it was loaded or not and I’m not sure if I want to remember.
I’ve accepted living with these feelings, it’s OK. I just put in my ear buds crank up Minor Threat, Death and the Dead Kennedys as I walk to a dull government building and plan on how to destroy myself on the half-pipe or dream of barrels. It is also why I look to the Noah’s, Mitch’s, Dion’s, Creed’s, etc.
Those kids are useless in life like me (and I’m guessing you too, it’s probably why you may hate them). They’re pissing into the wind, they’re team average, they often don’t have nice styles and they ride strange boards. They’re imperfect.
They’re not like the Gods of the WSL. But perfection is boring. Mick surfs heats perfectly, great for winning world titles, but so boring to watch. He’s 70’s stadium rock to Noah’s punk.
Yeah, the freesurfers do contrived things, but who doesn’t?
Surfing (and I don’t care what the poet/surf scholar/ocean activist/ dolphin fuckers say) is completely contrived. The whole of human life is full of contrived rituals, if it weren’t, we’d be back on par with the animals. The fact that they are paid to be average seems obscene to you? It seems no more obscene than fat middle-aged men being called athletes and getting paid millions to walk around a golf course.
Yeah, they’re not going to change the world and they won’t be as interesting to watch as Arab kids trying to overthrow their government through revolution. Remember, though, revolution is self-defeating. It just replaces the status quo with a new status quo and you can’t keep a revolution going in perpetuity.
Slater was a one-man revolution, now he’s just staid and boring. The Brazilian storm will become a lingering warm front (boring light drizzle), and John John and Julian will become what the Cooly kids are now. Seriously, revolutions get boring.
I appreciate competitive surfing, but I want an alternative to that structured world. Dion and his gang is that alternative.
Yeah, they’re impotent modern youth, they’re not John John, they may have slightly dubious fashion tastes, they’re not going to change shit and are probably overpaid for what they do.
However, they do seem to have a lot of fun. And I want some of that cake. So fuck the WSL.
You can have your own feelings relative to your own experience and stage in evolution. Watching Mick Fanning surf in heats, it is what it is. It is high level, sharp. Of course, there is the pressure to perform and sometimes it tires me to follow someone’s anxious hunt for points. When I watch Fanning in a heat and that moment comes, I filter out the excess visible stress, and then I resume watching and keep the good with me because there is. I am never bored in life. I just filter out what feels unnecessary and move on. But I do get tangled in thoughts; I hope that these pro surfers grow and eventually find meaning in whatever they do. Airs being meaningless? That’s interesting. In ReLoaded, there is Noa’s air in slow motion which has blown me away. Far from insignificant. It is true, we travel and go and have fun. Just f*ck around while misery happens not far away. Now, last year I was exposed to really good surf for a few months in a row. I ended up finding a woman to love and a land to purchase for our future. I needed something meaningful on land, something strong and good. I have now been working for a few months without surfing and going back soon. I can tell you that it is my number one priority over everything. Im that into it and I don’t want anything in the way.
Beau meet Heroin, I think you could be great friends…
Noa’s gesture wouldn’t have been so impotent if his sponsors/management/poet/dolphin fucker/whoever runs his instagram hadn’t thrown up a half assed public apology so quickly. He could have doubled down and written something about how the way he approached criticizing the WSL wasn’t the best there are many problems with the WSL such as “blah blah blah and people hiring security ton protect them from 70 year old. ” Instead, by giving such a bitchy little apology he made himself look like a petulant child. Of course that is exactly how he was acting but he could have swung things to his side with a bit of thought.
Ah well…
“Surfing (and I don’t care what the poet/surf scholar/ocean activist/ dolphin fuckers say) is completely contrived. ” Gotta say I loved that entire paragraph, and perhaps its applicable to the surf media as well. An acquaintance passed along a local surf magazine from the 1960s that he published out of his parents garage and sold for a quarter. It was exactly the same as the stuff coming out today: complete with new spots, who got sponsored, contests results, and so on. Granted today its filled with way more sarcasm (stab), misplaced earnestness (inertia), nostalgia (surfer), or grit (you know who). Its all spectacle and I can’t look away. I spend way more time reading about competitive (and free for that matter) surfing than I do actually watching it, but something keeps on pulling me back…
She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
— To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing. -Big Bill S.
Not sure that changing my “annoying mist” description on Stab a while back to “boring drizzle” means you don’t need to give me credit. You’re welcome.