Parker’s Breezy Reads II

Three fun reads, no matter what your needs…

I like to read. If you’re here, then you must as well. Pretty text heavy, BeachGrit. Someone once called us “cerebral,”by which they meant they thought we had too many words. Keep it short and sweet, more photos, more videos. But I’m not a photographer, I have no interest in filming people. I’ve just got a laptop and a love for blathering on.

The Relic Master by Christopher Buckley

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It was recommended by Matt Warshaw, and I adored Thank You For Smoking and Boomsday, how could I resist?

The Relic Master is a heist caper set at the dawn of Lutheranism, focusing on the sale of indulgences, the venality of the Roman Catholic Church, and an absurd reliquary based arms race. You wouldn’t necessarily expect concepts like simony and translation to lend themselves to a comedic romp, but in Buckley’s hands they do so, and well.

The Reformation reshaped the western world, led to widespread literacy, delivered a crushing strong blow to the might of the corrupt superstition that was the Holy Roman Empire.

An unexpected result of the novel is my new found appreciation of the importance the Reformation. I attended a Jesuit college, and whichever dimly remembered professor was tasked with beating the information into my mind did a piss poor job. The Reformation reshaped the western world, led to widespread literacy, delivered a crushing strong blow to the might of the corrupt superstition that was the Holy Roman Empire. I’ve always felt total contempt for theological scholars, seeing as how they waste their lives arguing the minutiae of bogus belief systems meant to control. But there’s something there, a relevance not based on some all seeing man in the sky, but in our modern reality and how we react to it.

So, yeah, buy it, read it. It is very good.

Carter & Lovecraft by Jonathan L Howard

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I was disappointed to learn that Howard didn’t plan to write any more novels about Johannes Cabal, his lovably evil anti-hero necromancer protagonist. Great books, the Cabal series, made better by their self contained nature. Howard’s decision to write stand alone novels that didn’t end in a cliff hanger and lead to years long waits between installments was a good one. It’s a terrible trend in the fantasy genre, no one wants to write stories that end between a single set of covers. It’s all grand world building and largely futile efforts to build a franchise.

I blame George Martin.

Howard’s decision to write stand alone novels that didn’t end in a cliff hanger and lead to years long waits between installments was a good one. It’s a terrible trend in the fantasy genre, no one wants to write stories that end between a single set of covers. It’s all grand world building and largely futile efforts to build a franchise.

Carter & Lovecraft is a treat. A self-aware noir horror in the world of Cthulhu, Howard spins gold from H.P. Lovecraft’s mythos, filled to the brim with the uncanny eldritch. Dealing, lightly, with the nature of reality, C&L follows a retired cop, now private dick, as he unwittingly unravels the sheer terror of an existence that lurks just beneath our own, voraciously waiting outside of time for an opportune moment to devour us all.

The Red Son Rising Trilogy by Pierce Brown

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A gross offender in the cliffhanger club, especially in book two, the trilogy is finished and it’s time to read. Yeah, the protagonist is a bit of a Mary Sue, and it deals in long standing tropes without much new to offer, but god damn is it fun. Violence and spaceships galore.

Humanity has moved beyond the shackles of Earth, picking up a dystopic caste system along the way. The planets are ruled by Golds, genetically engineered super human sociopaths created in the wake of an all out war that occurred centuries earlier. And now, finally, the masses have had enough.

For all the travails the protagonist suffers, the ending is never really in doubt. But Brown excels at engaging. Sure, you know it’ll work out somehow, especially when there’s a book or two left to go, but the fun’s in the voyage, not the destination.

Yeah, the protagonist is a bit of a Mary Sue, and it deals in long standing tropes without much new to offer, but god damn is it fun. Violence and spaceships galore.

If you prefer scifi of the hard variety, in the vein of Clarke, Asimov, Anderson, or Niven, it might not be for you. But if you’re looking for a fun read that never slows down, the kind that keeps you up well past your bedtime, you’ll love Red Son Rising.


Lily-white surf shop’s racist joke!

Brave Caucasian humorists sally forth!

Ironic racism is a comedy grenade. It’s maybe easiest to contain when coming from a racial/ethnic minority and delivered to a mixed crowd. Take Chris Rock’s turn hosting the Academy Awards, for example. He, a very famous very funny comedian, was able to poke and prod at the nasty racist tension embroiling Hollywood but even he got burned when joking about Asians. The Academy was forced to deliver an apology for the “pain it caused.”

It’s maybe most difficult when coming from a monochromatically white place and directed toward monochromatically white people because, generally, the already questionable “ironic” gets erased and “racism” is all that’s left.

Still, brave Caucasian humorists sally forth, undaunted! Take Stab‘s RIP (2004-2016) last remaining offspring, Stabstitch. Yesterday the appropriately named wordsmith, Morgan Williamson, wrote a piece for the site on the WSL jersey sales (remember how they are going to make $10,000,000.00?). Let’s read!

As the WSL continues to mainline the mainstream, the fanbase is growing serious. The World Surf League is currently sitting at 1.7 million followers on IG. And this is no AI Forever t-shirt, or Ke11y jazz. The adults and groms alike are dedicated to their fave surfers in a way where they’re willing to drop $65 for a polycotton soccer-jersey style shirt, with their number on it. Just as liquor during the Rodney King riots, they were torn from the shelves at Snapper.

I don’t understand the first sentence at all. Or the third one’s context. The fourth is grammatically dense but the sixth is the boom! “Just as liquor during the Rodney King riots, (Mick Fanning jerseys) were torn from the shelves at Snapper.”

Comedy gold! Right? Or?


So tired! Just. Caught. So. Many. Waves...
So tired! Just. Caught. So. Many. Waves...

Report: What “true surf fans” want!

Do you consider yourself a true turf fan? Guess what you love!

How good is it when Bloomberg gets its hands on the surfs? I think very good. The straight business reportage always reads amazingly surreal when rubbing up against our favorite lifestyle. One can guarantee metaphors like, “Riding a wave of…” “…salty…” and “…fiduciary wipeout.” But there is also great truth hidden in the financial folds.

Recently, the publication turned its eye toward SurfStitch. Of course you remember reading about it right here as a blood feud and what was not to love? A gorgeous blonde locked in vicious battle with a frumpy brunette!

Bloomberg, of course took a more prosaic, yet metaphorically gorgeous, take with Surf’s up, again, if this Aussie outfit has its way…but what’s with the vanishing CEO? Let’s read the start:

If the surfwear business were a streaming soap opera, it would go like this.

Shares of Billabong and Quiksilver, the industry’s biggest labels, surge to records in 2007, then crash. Gone are the days when high schools were flooded with bright graphic tees and baggy pants, and Matthew McConaughey could be seen catching a wave at Malibu Beach in knee-length board shorts. In 2011, Cali-cool surf seller PacSun begins closing down 200 stores. In 2015, Quiksilver slides into bankruptcy court.

Enter a young, ambitious player with hopes of reviving the salty dream. Australian retailer SurfStitch goes public in 2014 and quietly sets out on a rad acquisition spree, snapping up online retailers Swell and Surfdome, gear manufacturer Surf Hardware International, surf magazine Stab, forecasting service Magicseaweed, and sports video studio Garage Entertainment and Production. Suddenly, SurfStitch has global reach, revenue of A$145 million (US$109 million) in its latest fiscal half, and a grand vision  — a $1 billion surf empire united next year as Swell.

Etc. You’ve read the “grand visions” before. The best part, though, is when Bloomberg goes on to describe the pieces of SurfStitch’s surf empire. There is magicseaweed.com which, “…is for surfers who need to check the webcams to see if their local beach is pumping.” And Stab which, “… is geared to true fans interested in reading about an Australian who caught 152 waves in one seven-hour session.”

Does it get better than the true fans interested in reading about an Australian who caught 152 waves in one seven-hour session?

I think no.


Comedy: Lunada Bay Locals Parody!

Humour and surfing? Yes! It exists!

I just sent an email telling Derek I’m taking the day off. The wife’s playing hooky from work, and I just can’t get anything done while she’s around. Not that what I do is particularly difficult, it’s just hard to string together a coherent thought while your life partner is chattering away in your ear like a magpie.

Then I saw this video, and, wow, it’s funny. Not very much good surf related humor floating around. Surfing is serious business, people get upset about everything. Companies in decline, the dying vestiges of the Momentum/post-Momentum Gen guys looking at the rapidly approaching end of their careers. Everyone is very touchy.

Recently cost us some ad revenue, though I’d argue that bitching about content then pulling a purely theoretical ad campaign, one that hasn’t been run or been paid for, is just a means to manipulate editorial without actually coughing up any cash.

Then I saw this video, and, wow, it’s funny. Not very much good surf related humor floating around. Surfing is serious business, people get upset about everything. Companies in decline, the dying vestiges of the Momentum/post-Momentum Gen guys looking at the rapidly approaching end of their careers. Everyone is very touchy.

My dad did something similar when my brothers and I were fighting like wildcats during a car ride. “We were going to go to Disneyland, but now we aren’t, because you’re bad!”

We were never going to Disneyland.

Anyway, again, this is funny. And since it’s only got 1000 views at the moment, maybe they’ll be stoked we share it, rather than threaten legal action.

 


Blood Feud II: Wilko v Murdoch!

Should Fred Pawle be bashed, raped and killed? Wilko supporters say yes!

Do you remember yesterday when Matt Wilkinson called for the inclusion of sharia law in our judicial system?

The Quiksilver Pro champion become overheated when he was called a “yobbo” and “not pretty” in a headline in the sports section of The Australian newspaper and said, “Who thinks this guy deserves a flogging?”

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Wilko’s pals, which include the former ASP chief Brodie Carr, surf journalist great Tim Baker and ASL editor Wade Gravy who included a photo of the writer of the story, were universal in their condemnation of the headline and the story contained within.

Their case stuttered when it was revealed that if you moved beyond the headline (which was written by a sub-editor) the writer had actually called Wilko’s surfing “the most beautiful in the world” and “fast and brutal…a refreshing alternative.”

A few minutes ago, the writer responded in The Australian with a piece called The Day a Pro Surfer Wanted Me Flogged

Let’s examine.

Yesterday I became the target of a social media mob who called for me to, among other things, be bashed, raped and killed.

“Nothing new or, to be honest, disturbing about that. Keyboard warriors are as ubiquitous and harmless on social media as cockroaches on a balmy night.

“What was unusual, though, was that I was being pilloried for saying something nice. If vitriol and incitements to violence can now be triggered for expressing compliments, then, at the risk of sounding grim, free speech in this country is in serious trouble.”

and

“Why was he offended? Did he actually read the story? Or did he think I’d called him “not pretty”? His followers certainly thought so. Amid the hundreds of messages telling him how pretty he really is were other messages vehemently agreeing with his opening conclusion, which soon degenerated into suggestions of rape and murder. Lovely people, Wilko’s followers.

“All harmless fun, of course, to which I was oblivious until my 17-year-old son, who has the same name as me, contacted me to ask why he was copping abuse on Instagram.”

and

“We are living in increasingly intolerant times. Wilko’s instinctive response to an imagined slight was to incite a mob into a frenzy of fury.

“The right to be offended now extends to words intended as compliments, and the mob responds like an overcrowded cage of rabid Pavlov’s dogs. We are facing a generation of young adults to whom opposing arguments are not ideas to be contested, but justification for two dismally immature emotions: fleeting moral vanity and raging hatred. Neither of these emotions is essential to a normal, healthy life, or society, for that matter.

“More disturbingly, among the mob were three surf journalists. One of them, Nick Carroll, whose recent biography of his former-world-champion brother Tom describes him as the “world’s best known surf writer”, ignored the obviously dark, anti-journalistic forces at work and instead posted a sycophantic message to Wilko: ‘I think you’re pretty.’

“When even journalists run with the bloodthirsty pack, we are in a dangerous situation. When the pack is responding to an imaginary slight, the danger becomes ubiquitous. Who will they turn on next?

“Does Wilko think he made a mistake? Was it an impulsive act that he now realises was unwise and even a bit uncool? He won’t tell me. I messaged him last night, then again this morning, asking if we could talk about the storm he unleashed. I also left a message with Neil Ridgway, the marketing manager at Rip Curl, Wilko’s main sponsor. Neither replied.

“When I woke this morning, I noticed that Wilko had taken down the offending post from Instagram.”

Read the full story here (I didn’t cut and paste it all. She long!)