South African surf mag publisher to Jamie Brisick: “Bugger off New York shit talker!”

"A place where hope for humanity goes to die."

I’ve been lulled to complete sleep by the Tahiti Pro Teahupoo presented by Hurley. When the waves go dumb there’s not enough on the broadcast to keep a boy entertained. My mind wanders here and there and then I feel bad for letting you down too. For only posting “comment live” and “event wrap” back to back to back to back.

No.

You deserve more than Strider Wasilewski duck-diving a wave with microphone in hand while Joe Turpel says, “Epic conditions on a historic day here at the end of the road.”

So here.

You certainly read Jamie Brisick’s New Yorker masterpiece from a few days ago wherein he discussed our new era where cameras are ever-present and how they have created self-aware styles like the one possessed by Mikey February.

A passage:

His hand jive, soul arches, and toreador-like flourishes play to the camera in a way that breaks the spell of the itinerant surfer in far-flung solitude. His style is as self-conscious as the duck-face selfie.

Well, South Africa’s Zig Zag magazine took offense to the slight. (Disclaimer: I love Zig Zag magazine more than any American or Australian surf pub.) Publisher Andy Davis headed straight to computer and wrote In Defense of Aesthetics and MFEB’s Style and shall we sample?

Surf media hyenas and outrage specialist Beachgrit immediately jumped on this passage and shared it under the headline: THE NEW YORKER: “MIKEY FEBRUARY’S STYLE IS AS SELF-CONSCIOUS AS THE DUCK-FACE SELFIE!” A brief scuffle ensued in the comments section. A place where hope for humanity goes to die.

(Disclaimer: being described as surf media hyenas and outrage specialists gives me a unique thrill.)

And then…

Ultimately, Brisick has fallen into the trap, of judging February by a feckless and imperial first world Californian surfing standard, where being caught trying too hard is the ultimate sin. It’s a curmudgeonly and spiteful comment, that fails to grasp a broader global context and ends up saying more about his own privilege than whether Mikey February’s style is pretentious.

And all this to justify a perspective that itself rests in the eye of the beholder and is as ephemeral as the mist on a morning up the Wesksus. Here at the Zag, we say viva MFeb style, voetsek New Yorker kakpraat!

Which, I was gracefully told, translates as “Bugger off New York shit talker!”

So, is dear Jamie Brisick a feckless imperialist? Is Mikey February’s style misunderstood? Are you where hope for humanity goes to die?

Much to discuss and much better than current Teahupoo.

Eat it, Joe Turpel.