It's not funny anymore, is it?

“The United States of America has a history of locking otherwise blameless people, Americans even, up simply because they’re originally from a country deemed dangerous or hostile. War-like. Aggressive.” I tell my daughter as we squat in what’s being called the “exercise yard” of a notorious North County, San Diego Internment Camp.

“It’s an open secret but ugly still. California locked up wonderful Japanese folk for being Japanese during World War II.” I continue. “I don’t think they locked up wonderful Germans for being German during World War I but the powers that be changed the name of ‘hamburgers’ to ‘liberty sandwiches’ which is just as bad.”

“What country are we locked up for being from?” My young daughter asks while digging for worms that I told her we would fry for dinner, until she catches a Chihuahua, assuming we’ll be allowed to use the kitchen.

“France.” I say. “And we’re not even French.”

Europe is now the epicenter of the ongoing Coronavirus pandemic, more casualties in Italy than the disease’s proud papa China. Germany headed toward full lockdown. France’s Cannes Film Festival postponed.

Hell everywhere.

Hell that hath cometh.

Two weeks ago, when the non-China world was still normal-ish and I was only an enterprising surfer-father seeing fantastic deals to Europe popping up on my computer screen while writing about Gabriel Medina while glancing over at my young daughter who looked like she needed an adventure and who cares about Gabriel Medina?

It was then I proposed, to her, that we rip, last second, to France then Germany so we could shred the Coronavirus Apocalypse. Empty museums etc. Free Hermès Birkins and whatnot. Hamburgers that couldn’t even imagine liberty but even better steak frites.

The good life made fun.

The great life made pink.

She was game, as she always is.

So we did it, flying to Paris, flying to Berlin, and living a dream, an absolute dream. We laughed through an empty Versailles, an empty Berlin Zoo, an empty-ish Champs Élysées, an empty-ish Checkpoint Charlie, Berlin Wall, Louvre, Eiffel, Brandenburg… the Olde World made fresh though circumstances. Though it all went, theoretically, pear shaped whilst we were shredding.

Travel bans etc. Bar closures etc.

American frowns.

Terror and paranoia.

We made it home but were immediately tagged as Enemies of the State and suggested into self-internment what with the China Virus beginning to rage across greater America minus Florida.

Beginning to destroy a once unstoppable people (read: economy).

The notorious camp we’ve been “locked” into has limited cell phone reception in the living room because I insist on continuing an abusive relationship with T-Mobile, a broken washing machine that should be fixed this coming Tuesday, tiles making up a patio in the front yard that I was supposed to get sealed but haven’t scheduled the tile seal man yet, which was a total gaff, dying nectarine tree that I’m supposed to cut down, garage that is, seriously, out-of-control messy with tools everywhere but un-find-able, grout that needs re-touching in the kitchen, a few burnt out lightbulbs all my fault and a corroding zinc countertop, which I also insisted on.

Deserved?

According to public opinion, yes and let us read but one of many barbs sent over my Internment Camp’s needed-to-be-painted fence.

What are your plans for your daughter now that you have wantonly exposed her to Covid-19 by bringing her to the heart of the pandemic? Will you allow playdates knowing she is most likely infected? Or not give a shit because she isn’t showing symptoms and you never really cared about her health or anyone else’s? Dad of the fucking year. You should be arrested.

“Playdates!” I suddenly remember.

Are they allowed in this ruthless Internment Camp?

Can they leave once they come?

Would I be able to sort one of them into sealing the front patio tile?

My young daughter’s best friend in the whole wide world is, no lie, Japanese.

More as the story develops.

INCREDIBLE!

Forget about pandemics. Forget about cancellations, deaths, Great White Shark attacks and SeaWorld trainers crushing the spines of baby Killer Whales, a wobbly stock market, Kelly Slater, abundances of caution, toilet paper, Donald J. Trump sending you $2000 (if you happen to be an American), millennials and their war against boomers, Kanoa Igarashi.

FCS has released a new fin and acceptable, respected surf media has lost its collective mind.

In one day, headlines across august publications were synched and screamed, using a font size not seen since Laird Hamilton towed Teahupoo.

Magic Seaweed: “Testing the world’s smartest fin.”

Stab: “FCS Just Released The Most Premium Progressive Fins Of The Last Decade”

CoastalWatch: “Tested: FCS’s New H4 Fin Set Is Scary Good.”

Surfline: Nick Carroll Tests FCS’s New H4 Fin Set And he finds the space fighter smart fin…scary good

But can it be true? Is it possible that a fin could be so incredible, so wonderful that every important surf media bumped every other bit of planned editorial in order to celebrate?

We must turn to Nick Carroll himself, who found the time to write three of the above four stories at over 8,000 words each.

The H4 is another thing. At first look you’d think you’d got hold of the wings off some sorta hi-tech mini Space Fighter. The fins are a deep grey verging on black, with a super-fine grooved finish that shimmers slightly in a certain light, like a vinyl record surface. Moulding is super precise, with fine edges and no spare flesh anywhere.

As with other H-series products, the fin design is distinctive. The side fin has a conventional leading edge template and a less conventional trailing edge, which cuts short and up at the tip, hatchet-style. The foil follows the trailing edge, creating a slight ridge on the outer surface of the fin where it tapers into the hatchet. The inside face is dead flat, and all the edges are sharp and tight. Like I said, very precise.

The rear fin begins conventionally enough at the base, with a curve in both leading and trailing edges, but just a couple of cms up, the whole fin tilts back and the template lines straighten, tapering into a football-ey tip.

I know you can see all this in the graphics, but you won’t quite be able to pick that ridge running back to the hatchet, nor maybe absorb the hard precision of it all. The fin materials are also highly precise and “built”, with a shell of unidirectional carbon tape containing an injected composite core, which produces an extremely quick-flex, tight fin that’s also very light.

I was high on them pretty much immediately.

Now I understand. A fin that makes a person high.

H4 + Surfing: A love story (buy here).

But do you remember the day that SurfStitch purchased Magic Seaweed, Stab and FCS but then uh oh?

Simpler times.

Round, full but not fat. Heavy.

Oh we are living in the last days, the end times, stuck in our own houses peering mournfully out the window terrified of our fellow man and the diseases in his lungs. But doesn’t it make you slightly wistful for simpler times when we could become very angry about genetically modified foods or Killer Whales who had been enslaved for our entertainment?

Blackfish, the 2013 documentary, struck many nerves with its depiction of apex-apex predators with sad, droopy fins. Even the world’s greatest surfer Kelly Slater became affected, writing on Instagram, “Have you seen the film #Blackfish yet? I assumed a lot about #Orcas’ intelligence but had no real knowledge on the subject. Adults spend their entire lives in pods alongside their parents and swim up to 100 miles/day. They’re one of the most intelligent and self-aware species in the world (making them highly inquisitive and unsuited for captivity).”

Well, the film led to a lawsuit and, as a result, new photographs just became released today.

Shall we peek?

https://www.instagram.com/p/B94YS21n-eq/

Disturbing photos released during the ongoing SeaWorld vs Anderson Court Case-⁠

Seen in the photo, two trainers stand on the backs of two orcas (Taima and Malia) beached in the medical pool, posing and smiling for a photo. You may notice how large the male trainer may seem – he’s standing on an 18-month-old calf, pushing her head almost entirely under the water. At such a young age, the cervical vertebrae in Malia’s neck and the thoracic vertebrae in her back wouldn’t have been fully fused or formed and would’ve been susceptible to irreversible damage.⁠
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While it was a common sight to see trainers standing on the whale’s rostrums and backs during performances, these stunts were only performed when the whale’s weight was supported by the water. Beached in the medical pool, Taima and Malia lack this support and are vulnerable to the pressure of their own weight, as well as the additional weight of their trainers. While it wasn’t an immediate threat for Taima and Malia, a cetacean’s own weight will begin to crush its internal organs if left beached for a prolonged period of time. Short term, it must’ve been very uncomfortable for the pair – something these trainers should’ve considered before prolonging their suffering further by taking photos.⁠
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Potential harm to the animals aside, perhaps the most alarming aspect of this photo is how comfortable the trainers seem to be with disrespecting their animals – comfortable enough to pose for a photo nonetheless.⁠

Does this make you sad or do you think everyone is having much fun here including the baby Killer Whale?

What would Kelly Slater say?

My only real wonderment is why the well-muscled trainer with large buttocks is on the baby Killer Whale while the petite woman is on the full grown Killer Whale.

Do you know?

Any guesses?

More as the story develops.

Disturbing trends in Middle Earth.

But what if you had a child that began displaying sadistic behavior? Going into the yard, for instance, finding a frog and ripping its little froggy legs off while the animal writhed in pain. Would you punish via spanking? A good, long time out? Or would you feel a sense of pride in the rigid enforcement of humanities superiority?

I feel New Zealand’s Department of Conservation is chewing over this conundrum right this moment for as it was just revealed, the number of juvenile Great White sharks usually teeming in those coastal waters is dropping precipitously, due the behavior of some “bad apple” fishermen and let us go directly to Aukland’s 1 news for more.

“The number of juveniles being caught on fishing lines is a concern because these sharks are endangered, and it means they won’t grow to maturity and contribute to the breeding population,” Mr Duffy said.

“We want fishers to understand that white sharks are protected and should be released in the water immediately. They shouldn’t be hauled up the beach or dragged backwards by their tails because that will cause further injury.”

The sharks are vulnerable to a variety of fishing methods, including trawls, set nets and longlines, and have even been found drowned in crayfish pots.

In several instances, the sharks were quickly released and probably survived capture.

However, according to DOC, there has been cases where the carcasses were found discarded on beaches, and in some cases they had been butchered or had their jaws removed. There was also one carcass found finned before DOC staff were able to recover it.

While it is not illegal to accidentally catch or even kill a great white shark, all fishers are required to release it immediately and report the event to DOC or a fisheries officer as soon as possible, the agency said.

It is illegal to retain any part of the shark for food or as a memento or trophy, even if it is dead.

This whole “dragged backwards by tails” and “drowned in crayfish pots” seems very “putting kittens in a burlap sack and tossing it in the river.” Very “holding a butterfly down while slowly frying its little butterfly belly with a laser beam of sunlight through magnifying glass.”

Disturbing.

And did you animal cruelty in children is a great predictor of future violence and criminality?

Much to ponder.