It may seem like I’m beating a dead horse here
but you have to believe me when I say that I’m totally not. I just
think it is important that we consider some important facts that
might become obscured in the Stab + The
Inertia lovers tiff.
Mostly that dolphins and surfers have a lot in common.
Stab writer Brendan Buckley brought up some wonderful
points though, mainly that dolphin and surfer brains are the same.
Let us read a passage:
On a neurological level, the reason we become addicted to
surfing is due to the chemicals your brain produces during and
after. Boring, I know. There are scientific explanations like that
for everything in life. Isn’t it better to think about love as love
rather than breaking it down into a million molecules, for
example?
Well, yes.
But the reason I bring this up is because new research
proves that our surfing soul mammals, dolphins, may ride waves for
the same reasons.
A new study conducted by the Marine Biology department at
the University of California, Santa Cruz exhibited a spike in the
part of a dolphin’s frontal lobe that processes emotion when they
ride waves. While charts have shown similar spikes when they are
chasing prey, this spike was shown when the dolphins’ behavior
wasn’t suggestive of hunting, rather when they were simply riding
waves.
I don’t think this “new study” was actually commissioned but we
don’t need it because we surfers see dolphins riding waves all the
time and know they are shredding for shredding’s sake.
Like us. Like surfers.
But would you like to know what else they do like us, like
surfers? Have water orgies!
Famed surf photographer James “Jimmicane” Wilson was recently
cruising his drone outside Lowers when he stumbled upon, you
guessed it, dolphins having a water orgy! Lowers has been the site
for many famous surfer water orgies. Who could forget… all of
them?
Not me.
We live in enlightened times don’t we though?
And raise a glass to dolphins and to surfers. To The
Inertia and to Stab.
Slàinte! And may you all stay forever young.
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Best of: The Inertia love letter to
Stab!
By Chas Smith
Love is a many splendored thing!
I’m sorry… I know this isn’t “content” but I
just can’t get enough of The Inertia‘s love quarrel letter
to Stab. I mean, am I the only one here who thinks this is
even better than a Gabriel Medina victory? Even better than 10
Gabriel Medina victories?
A quick recap.Stab wanted to contribute to its partner (like
BeachGrit contributes to Surfer) and the very funny
Brendan Buckley wrote a piece suggesting dolphin and surfer brains
are wired the same. The Inertia published. Stab
giggled while back-peddling. The Inertia got hurt and
founder Zach Weisberg wrote a letter.
Here are my favorite lines.
1) At 10:21 PM Friday night, just after I booked a flight
home to the East Coast for a funeral for a family member I love
very much, I was notified that our neighbors at Stab had played us
for fools.
2) In my estimation, life’s too short for that
nonsense.
3) We are not the guys snickering in the back corner of the
bus pointing and laughing and high-fiving at other’s
expense.
4) I was taught at a very early age that it’s not fulfilling
to shit on other people for your own amusement.
5) And while celebrating a fake contribution that slipped
through our system is a dickish thing to do, I want to thank Stab
for doing it.
6) I’m sure the sweethearts at Stab are clinking beers and
smiling at how they succeeded in making us look like
assholes.
7) Starting today, we will enforce a series of stricter
protocols for contributions, which will slow that process but will
ensure a higher caliber of quality and accuracy in our
content.
8) For too long, (surf) seemed to be dictated by a small
group of white men in Orange County obsessed with the fleeting and
vacuous nature of “cool,” which we believe undersold the rich,
diverse culture of the sport.
9) I sincerely do not give a fuck.
10) If you and your embittered shadow choose to perpetuate a
mindlessly exclusive mentality that spits on bright-eyed
participants who stand outside imaginary lines drawn in the sand,
that’s your prerogative.
11) I sincerely do not give a fuck.
12) We believe the coolest thing we can do is treat people
with kindness and respect, approach work with optimism, and pursue
things we care deeply about with curiosity and an open
mind.
13) I sincerely do not give a fuck.
14) That’s our promise.
……….I’m sorry. I am laughing so hard I can’t breathe and have to
stop….
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Portugal: “Gabriel Makes the Dead Rat
Dance!”
By Longtom
And if you think Medina can't beat John Florence at
Pipe you mad.
Can you cast your mind back to this exact moment last
year? Pyzel in tears, global jubilation, the rightful heir
claiming the throne. A feast at which “all hearts opened and all
wines flowed” etc etc.
Then Pro surfing died. Died like a dead rat. A dead stinking rat
that Rory Parker had to then cart around and try and make dance for
our amusement at the Pipeline.
Which violates the Golden Rule of surf journalism as told to me
by Nick Carroll in 1962: You can’t make a dead rat
dance.
Rory tried but in the effort he self-combusted and deserted his
post in the biggest capitulation since the Fall of Mosul.* You are
brand new to BeachGrit? Welcome comrade, as you will see
sometimes the action behind the curtain rivals that in front.
But no dead rat now. Now we go to the Pipeline with a live title
race. Pro surfing breathes a sigh of relief. I desperately wanted
to be entertained as the muted violence of a bruised Portugese sky
framed a high-energy lineup of rippy close-outs to start the Final
Day.
Violent anti-climax followed.
First Julian Wilson flubbed his way to victory against SeaBass
in a low-scoring encounter that set the tone.
The battle of the chinbeards followed. Either could have doubled
for Scott Weiland
pre-heroin. John Florence with a world title in the
offing got nothing. Then nothing and more nothing.
Kolohe squeezed out of a frothy pit for a seven. A muted crowd
expecting fireworks murmured, an online audience praying for
something like Hagler/Hearns round one – please take three minutes
and savour what competitive sport can be – got a dull
non-event maimed by the most soul-destroying phenomenon in pro
surfing: the European closeout.
Florence, the best surfer in the world and current world
champion finished the quarter final with a heat score of 3.8.
Fanning, a three-time world champion, finished with 3.17 in a
losing score to Medina.
Finally, something caught fire. Kolohe and Wilson exchanged
tube-rides and aerials, with the judges over-cooking the spread to
put the result a bridge too far away for Kolohe.
That keeps Julian in the title race as a rank outsider. Medina
brutalised Kanoa Igarashi like a hyena scavenging a carcass on the
savannah. It wasn’t pretty. It was pretty dire actually.
But not according to Joey Turpel.
According to Joe, the drama and the action was almost unbearably
exciting. It, and some of the judging – Medina got a high six
yesterday for a wave I could have easily exceeded, an aged,
semi-amateur receding hairline hetero-normative piece of shit bus
driver from Lennox Head – seemed to put us deep down the rabbit
hole into a wholly separate reality.
Now I know Hunter S Thompson is the most used and abused and
badly copied writer in the surf journalist canon* but if we could
just bring him on board as expert witness for a moment I would
be very grateful.
In his book Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail,
written about the ’72 American election, he ascribes the weird and
savagely surreal behaviour of candidate Ed Muskie to a powerful
hallucinogen called Ibogaine. HST colorfully described the effect
of the drug on Muskie, “Given the known effects of ibogaine…
Muskie’s brain was almost paralyzed by hallucinations… he looked
out at the crowd and saw gila monsters instead of people”.
Is Joey Turpel seeing rainbows and spirit animals when he looks
at Portugese close-outs, Richie Porta seeing high-sixes for a
performance an intermediate could dish up? Has the common frame of
reference, the one that enables Pro Surfing to be understood, been
lost? Is it now like Wittgenstein’s famous lion, that even if it
speaks we cannot understand it?
Has Pro Surfing crossed the Ibogaine threshold? Is Joey Turpel
seeing rainbows and spirit animals when he looks at Portugese
close-outs, Richie Porta seeing high-sixes for a performance an
intermediate could dish up? Has the common frame of reference, the
one that enables Pro Surfing to be understood, been lost? Is it now
like Wittgenstein’s famous lion, that even if it speaks we cannot
understand it?
Thirteen minutes to go in the final and with Medina sitting on a
pair of fives and Wilson a pair of ones I’m pining for a Pro
Surfing Brexit.
Why can’t we be in the Mentawais or even Bali? Can you tell me
John Florence is going to get a three surfing Canggu rights or
Macaronis?
Fuck relatable conditions, fuck close-outs, I want my mind
blown. Give me 20 JJF World Titles, give me tea for the Tillerman,
steak for the sun, wine for the women who made the rain come.
Fuck relatable conditions, fuck close-outs, I want my mind
blown. Give me 20 JJF World Titles, give me tea for the Tillerman,
steak for the sun, wine for the women who made the rain come.
With the rat on life support and Medina falling on nine waves, a
sudden burst of action with five minutes to go. Julian threw a
tail-high reverse for a high four then speared the only barrel of
the final, a running left for a low six to take the lead. Medina
responded with a flurry of lefts and the final was won. Medina
takes a red hot streak and a hyper live rat ready to dance to the
Pipeline.
If you think Medina can’t beat John Florence at Pipe you
mad.
*Jokes Rory. You ain’t a real surf writer unless you get sacked
by a site or quit in the kind of blazing glory Fante describes in
The Road to Los Angeles: “I’m tickled to be leaving. I’m
sick of your drooling, elephantine hypocrisy. I’ve been wanting to
abandon this preposterous job for a week. So go straight to hell,
you dago fraud!”
**Just need to put in the canon the greatest opening line of
surf writing ever, published in The Inertia yesterday by
writer Shawna Baruh. “This morning I was called a cunt”. Bring it
to Pipe Shawna.
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Sad: Stab and The Inertia tussle!
By Chas Smith
Nothing makes me sadder than a lovers' quarrel. But
is there hope for these two?
I really hate lovers’ quarrels and it is
probably because, at heart, I am a romantic. A believer that there
is a one for each of us and when you find it is most important to
never let go. Never ever ever. Romeo and Juliet exemplify this
singular passion. So do Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, Chris Martin
and Gwen Paltrow, Stab and The Inertia.
Yes Stab and The Inertia are a perfect match
example to us all, cohabitating in Venice-adjacent. Sharing 2 foot
closeouts and crispy shallots, writing about surf and the surf
world from uniquely clichéd perspectives, holding hands in the pale
moonlight.
Three days ago they together shared a story
and what should have been a coming out party somehow turned sour.
The piece was a brilliant expose on how dolphins and humans are the
same. Of course there was no scientific evidence to back up the
claim but who cares? A. Science is for non-lovers and B. Dolphins
totally are like surfers.
Stab even put a completely The
Inertia-like disclaimer on the end of the story:
Here at Stab—a magazine that often allows Morgan Williamson
to write as if English is his second language—we’ve typically taken
a (somewhat) firm stance on putting down competitors. However, the
effort Mr Buckley put into making the point that (almost) anyone
can write articles and have them published in surf media in 2017 is
admirable and deserves its time in bright lights, slowly sliding
down the feed.
And The Inertia should have jumped up and down clapping
its very tiny hands.
But for some reason it did not.
Founder-and-Chief Zach Weisberg took to the
internet and wrote from the heart about how he did not
like surfers and dolphins being compared and added:
I’d also like to thank you for reminding me of who we are,
and what we strive for The Inertia to represent. Or better yet,
what we don’t represent. We are not the guys snickering in the back
corner of the bus pointing and laughing and high-fiving at other’s
expense. That will never be us. You’re more than welcome to race
the others to the bottom to own that space. I was taught at a very
early age that it’s not fulfilling to shit on other people for your
own amusement. We’ve watched others do that for years. We’ve
watched people who were once very close to you do that to you.
We’ve watched you call that behavior pathetic. You’re right. It
is.
I think the “people who were once very close to you do that to
you. We’ve watched you call that behavior pathetic. You’re right.
It is.” means BeachGrit and this brings me the truest
joy because I know at the end, Stab and The
Inertia will apologize to each other for harsh words and go
out somewhere on Lincoln blvd. for more dishes featuring crispy
shallots.
And afterward? Well. Make up sex is the best of all or so they
say.
So let me be the first to toast… The Inertia and
Stab. In good times and bad, sickness and health. You are
each other’s one!
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How to: Get 30 million social views!
By Chas Smith
Iconic surf photographer Jason Murray teaches you
how!
Life is the most wonderful serenade. This
morning, I inadvertently posted a very fun picture of a boat being
mauled by waves on my Instagram account without thinking much of it
besides, “Whoa.”
Mere hours later it was revealed the captain, and hero, of that
boat was none other than legendary surf photographer Jason Murray
and that the particular event happened during a professional surf
contest. Come and revel in his iconic images here!
In any case, I thought, “Fantastic…” and then did further
research.
Did you know this one clip has garnered more views than
anything, save Mick Fanning’s shark attack, related to professional
surfing? Oh this news was worth a call to Mr. Murray who I found
patrolling Oregon’s coast. Let’s have a chat with him!
The finals were about to start in the 2002 CT at Lowers.
Kelly was in the semi-final I remember but lost to Mick (I
wrote poorly as I was listening and got last name wrong but the one
with red hair… Mick… Lowe?) and Luke (I think maybe
Egan) were in the final.
Before they ran it though they had an expression session, an
airshow and a 9/11 tribute. I had been out on the boat all day
long. This was pre-ski and looking back it is a really weird craft
to use at Lowers but at the time it was no big deal.
It was a really good finals day with the sets pumping. Like,
4 to 6 feet. The boat had a 2-stroke engine and those fuck up after
a while so during the day I kept going past the break and revving
the engine to clean the carbs.
Anyhow, right after the 9/11 ceremony finished I made my way
into the lineup and that’s when the engine just died. There were
3000 people on the beach, it was high tide and they were all there
on the cobblestones. Five people deep, shoulder to
shoulder.
The engine was dead and of course a solid fat one popped up.
I was thinking, “Fuck. This boat is not starting. It’s totally
dead.”
Dave Stanfield was on the mic for that one and delivering
the call. “Sets coming. The boat better get out of there…”
I handed my cameras to Jake “Jaker” Walsh and told him to
put them in the Pelican. Then we took two waves and started to get
pretty cleaned. It was almost give up the ship time. The boat had
spun around and was facing the beach and I finally got it started,
spun back around and punched it. Jaker went full superman but
crisis averted, for the most part. If not I’d probably be doing
this call from jail, being inside for involuntary manslaughter for
10 people. The beach really was packed.
I wouldn’t be laughing if I killed people. That boat had a
lot of good adventures after that but that was its moment in the
limelight. You know, though. It doesn’t matter what you are
shooting on… a ski, a surfboard, a boat… eventually your luck is
going to run out.
Oh but real quick, the best part, when we were safe I asked
Jaker, “How are my cameras?” Well, he had put them in the bait box
instead of the Pelican. They were all floating in water. I had at
least six surfers paddle up to me after that bringing me canisters
of film but you know what? We sat outside and watched the finals
and some of the best surf contest I ever shot was from that
day.
So there you go. You want 20 million social media views? Drive a
boat into a professional surf lineup, get smashed by waves and save
the day while losing your livelihood.