Murdered trees, stale news, obscene print bills, waste, waste, waste…
Why I Still Cling to Surf Mags… Jesus christ. This is what happens when you let a commenter start writing shit. We’re a website, not a magazine. Digital, not analog. The future, not the past. Toe the party line, motherfucker.
I get where ol’ Negs is coming from, though. I, too, was a young boy enamored with the printed word, rushing down at the beginning of each month to the weird magazine store that kept a full selection of glossies in every genre as an excuse for the existence of the large curtained area that took up the majority of the floor space. So many pornos.
I popped into a similar shop in downtown Honolulu a while back, near the Fort Street bus stop, where all the hobos and dispossessed mentally ill hang out.
It’s 2015, modern notions of decency meant the proprietor barely provided a pretense for his smut peddling. A handful of National Geographics, a few assorted celeb rags, arranged haphazardly in the front. A steady stream of perverts making their way to the back.
Who jacks off to a printed page these days?
I remember once, way back when I still lived in LA and the internet was barely a thing, my wife, then girlfriend, accompanied me to the newsstand. Which I guess is what they’re called, though it was a proper store.
“Wow,” she said, “This place is popular.”
Six or eight single men were browsing the shelves.
“Do that many people really buy magazines?”
“Kinda.”
I paid for my haul, a lovely selection of skate ‘zines, weird art mags, awesome independently owned adventure journals.
“Watch this.”
We left through the front door and watched the mad rush to the porn section the moment the only woman present was gone.
The point is, magazines were pointless, even when they had a point. Stale news, obscene print bills, waste waste waste. Murdered trees smeared with ink, delivered to your door once a month. Rarely anything good in them. And even then, never worth saving. My colossal pile of cherished issues hit the dumpster years ago. Nothing of value was lost.
I don’t even think I have more than a handful of books in my house. Digital is divine. You can read them in the dark, fit thousands on little magic device, and, if you know what you’re doing, they’re all free!
No one gets to control the narrative anymore. Everyone gets a voice.
Admittedly, most of those voices spew from the mouths of morons who have nothing of value to say, but that’s hardly a new development. People haven’t gotten stupider since the 90’s. Poorer, definitely, but not dumber.
Yeah, I miss a few, and yeah, I definitely miss the money (not that it was much, but it was more), and I’m a little sad I never got to play the big man magazine mover and shaker I always dreamed of being.
But, shit, I put my effort into building a better buggy whip. The times are changing, better get with ’em or get left behind.
So I moved on. All my subs are lapsed. In the end they’ll all be dead. With the exception of a few niche titles.
The Surfer’s Journal will probably hang around for a long time, as well as… well, that’s all I got.
I let mine go years ago. Don’t miss them. But, mags are for kids, and I’ve got kids, so I assume they’ll be back in the house eventually.
Print pays the bills. Digital does not. With the death of print, the death of professional photographers will follow.
While most magazines (in general, and not just surf) are trash, the fucked thing is that they charge the same amount for a copy/subscription of the print mag as for the digital version. How much more raw resource goes into making a print mag than a digital one? The mind boggles: trees, ink, distribution… Digital: copy the same file, over and over and over.
If I had to guess, I’d blame that on declining ad revenue.
You know what I really miss? Surf movies. Going to the Lions Club, or whatever hall they rented, the whole crowd yelling and hooting at waves. Good times.
But that was a long time ago. The few I’ve been to in my adult years were kind of somber, serious affairs. Everyone worried about looking cool, not realizing that trying to look cool is the uncoolest thing ever. Cool fuckers don’t give a shit what other people think.
the premiere of cluster was interesting I must say!
On a recent trip to the liquor store I decided to ask the old guy behind the counter how many porno mags he sells. He said, “used to be 10-15 a day, now maybe 4 or 5 a month”. Print truly is dead, at least it’s easier to clean off a keyboard than it is to try to get two pages stuck together apart.
That reminds me of the time I had to explain to my wife why I buy new socks every few months, even though I only wear shoes once or twice a year.
I can honestly say Ive never rubbed one out into a sock. It always just seemed like there would be too much chafing.
It’s a catcher, you don’t hump it. Great absorbency, and a pile of them in corner don’t ring the same bells that tissues do.
Well obviously, you wouldn’t want to do the damn thing in there the entire time. You’d have to be a sadist.
Nail in the coffin Charlie, nail in the coffin!
Apparently you can get computers without keyboards now. My nephew came back from the city and said they’re using fully wipeable touch screens. What’ll it be next?
At least surf magazines keep the amateur commentors on one page, rather than this front page full spread bologna you guys give to a Stab reject.
I’ll have you know I rejected them! Countless hours spent online mounding and guiding the comment section to the blistering train wreck it is now… my payment? two RVCA flat brimmed caps.
Yeah, seriously. Haven’t these pervs never heard of the internet? Who buys pornos anymore? Worst case scenario,wander off into the woods and find some, dont pay for it.
Even if you throw it out the minute you’re done with it, the experience of reading the printed word will always be more satisfying than clicking through some banner ad-laden article on whatever the current website du jour is. The two can coexist, the click bait trash keeps you sated until the printed goods deliver the real deal every few months or so.
Monthly mags are all basically trash now.
I don’t know that they were ever that good. I sure thought they were brilliant, but I was a stupid little kid.
I do miss Wilbur Kookmeyer and Pamenter’s short stories though. They were gold.
Ironically, I’m tearing through a stack of the last few months of unread surf magazines, so my fiancee can take them in to the waiting room of the hospital where she works. The bums that come in for a fix love them, probably so they can play with themselves in public while looking at ads featuring Alana.
The last issue I read was Surfing, 2/3 of it dedicated to Dane & co. in Morocco, and the entire back 1/3 was thinly-veiled ad posing as a “board short guide.” So I’m now one step closer to declaring them useless. Then again, I’ve gotta consider this “Sista Brotha” ad enveloping the stories on Beach Grit…
ah, Rory, think all that digital device use doesn’t contribute to waste? forests are still razed and coal mines still spew toxic smoke so we can burn our retinas out staring at screens inches from our glowing faces. print has gotten less eco-hazardous, too, with soy inks and recycled paper and recycling at all time highs. i would also argue that you have to filter out more crap to get to what you want on the web (thankfully I found Beachgrit). plus the feel of a mag in your hand sure beats mousing around. the times they are a changin but i wouldn’t necessarily call all of it good!
what the fuck you guys on about: there’s more surf mags on the shelves than ever, at least in Oz. White Horseys, Paper Sea, Foam Symmetry, some girl ones, Damaged goods zine etc etc……meanwhile digital? what?> The Inertia? Every fucking one of them is busy recycling the same old shite, busting their chops to be the first to the same punch as everyone else….
Only the comments are worth reading, christ look right here to see how hard Chas, Dell and Rory are scraping the bottom of the barrell every day to make content. Now we’ve got a post rebutting a comment written as a post. it’s like a sick dog coming back to lick it’s own vomit, only to regurgitate it for some other sick dog to come and lick it up and so on and so on ad nauseum.
is this the end game of capitalism digesting itself.
Christ I feel sorry for the poor suckers roped into writing for this though.
See? Everyone gets a voice! It’s egalitarianism at its finest.
Longtom actually get’s two voices!!
One cool little feature on the BeachGrit Moderator panel is the IP register. One click on olde Longtoms number and hey presto!! two accounts show up here.
For the record, He’s far more subtle when he log’s in with his other Disqus account.
But I welcome both sides of his split personality to the table!
mod integrity as its finest.
The exchange of ideas is intoxicating.
Surfers Journal is the real deal and should last forever. Mr. Pez is the man! Just burn all the rest and let´s go digital.
We are in a new age, where minds aren’t easily amused, we don’t want photo’s, when we can have video at the click of a button. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of the clips these days lack flair, but there is some diamonds in the rough. Also it wasn’t a bad piece written by ol’ neggs. Having said that, this is a different time where we demand more
Why do I feel like a fat ugly girl in a beauty contest Rory?
All hail Negatron
Oh, Rory. Your first 2 sentences literally made me LOL – for an extended period of time – but I’ve gotta disagree, even though I don’t buy mags any more. In my attic I still have Surfer’s What is Surfing Now 25th Anniversary issue. My first mag, now so old not even the internet can tell me if it was 84 or 85. Googling it I have so many mags from then, through to the mid 90s and looking at the covers gave me such a pang of nostalgia. I might even pop up there this weekend and have a look. I bet if you could get those mags from the dumpster you’d go a little gooey too. Surfers you used to love but forgot about, shots that are burned into your memory. Lineups of places you promised yourself you’d one day get to. I think I’m a fair bit older than you, but in the 80’s there were also loads of bikini ads that were good for a cheeky shuffle to. I’ve got mags from around the world – ones in Portuguese, Japanese – of which I can’t read a fucking word – from when I was desperate for some visual stoke. I know it’s nostalgia for an agieng man, possibly caused by a mild hangover, but it’s good to know they are there.
The end.
Fuck, I need to do some actual work.
I get it, I used to worship the mags. Every page, every word, over and over. I had piles of magazines in corners, in boxes, in the attic, everywhere. I learned it from my dad, I’m pretty sure he’s still got every issue of Surfer he’s ever owned.
The time I moved house and had to take an extra trip because I had an entire pickup truck bed full of magazines was when I realized it was kind of crazy. I’d gone too far. I started dumping them and never looked back. It still hurts a little each time, but I don’t like to go in for nostalgia. Look to the future, what’s done is done.
Bro: eBay? At least get a couple of sheckles back! You will repent in time, though. Mark my words….
I feel I have said enough for one day.
I bet that pickup truck mission to the dump coincided with your wife shifting in… like you wanted to throw them out.
Looking though old mags is hardly toes on the nose nostalgic bonnet posing, please tell me it isn’t!
You’re absolutely correct.
But, like most (well, some) things, she was right.
As someone once said to me “Tow the party line, motherfucker”
You inspired me to hit the attic, or ‘roofspace’ as we very plainly call it here. I found a very worn Waves and remembered my favourite Hott Buttered ugg boots ad. The one with the tatties in the corner and Joel Fitz grabbing himself. The old routine came back to me. I covered Joel up, downed trow and set to work. Only for the missus to enter the room. Surprisingly, she wasn’t shocked at what I was doing, but like Rory, more surprised it was to a printed page. Lucky she’s never caught me with the photo of her sister.