“A new day has dawned. Another opportunity to
better myself as a person. And as a consumer.”
(Editor’s note: Following a proud history
of surf anthropology as pioneered by Jen See in her Surfline
Man series, here,
here,
here,
here,
here and
here, today
BeachGrit introduces Hurley Person.)
Hurley Person stirs from a dreamless sleep as the first
wisps of light meander in through his bedroom window,
dancing across the sheer white walls of his tastefully austere
studio apartment.
The velvety beats of Moby begin to play through an unseen pair
of Sonos speakers as Hurley Person blinks once, twice.
“A new day has dawned,” he thinks to himself as he wakes.
“Another opportunity to better myself as a person. And as a
consumer.”
Hurley Person cracks his neck as he sits up in bed, his hazel
green eyes and coffee brown skin contrasting perfectly against the
muted alabaster of his expensive linen sheets. The sheets, like
every other product he owns, are of the highest quality, and made
to last.
The only thing disposable in this household is Hurley Person’s
income.
He runs his fingers through his fine brown beard.
“Siri,” he says as he stifles a yawn, “find me some engaging,
inspiring and inclusive content to view this morning before I
prepare for my busy day of work at the tech entrepreneur hub I
recently founded that provides venture capital and mentoring to
small and medium-sized enterprises dedicated to upskilling their
corporate social integrity.”
“Yes, Hurley Person,” comes a smooth feminine voice as the last
strains of Moby melt seamlessly away.
Hurley Person rises from bed and begins his morning
stretches.
A $9,000 BenQu laser projector whirs from a hidden recess in the
roof, and a series of blurred images play across the far white wall
as Siri finetunes her algorithm.
“Siri, I’m feeling a little lonely today,” says Hurley Person.
“Make it content related to a sport or pastime that could offer me
a sense of belonging to a culture that aligns with my personal
values of fitness, environmental awareness and social inclusiveness
while also filling the existential void that sits at the base of my
soul. Something that will remedy my pedestrian, sterile sheltered
existence and the lack of any real personality or sense of human
connection that has been a hallmark of my life.”
“Yes, Hurley Person.”
“Oh, and Siri,” …Hurley Person stops his stretching and looks
off somewhere in the half distance… “Can you get a bit of T&A
in there too? But don’t include that in my search history!”
He lets out an involuntarily feminine chuckle.
“Of course, Hurley Person.”
The miasma of blurred imagery being projected on his wall slows
to a single, sickly frame. A beautiful, statuesque blonde woman in
tight mountain biking gear stands in the middle of a back country
trail.
“Matches found,” says Siri
“Mountain biking: do you want to go down, down down? “
“Hmm,” says Hurley Person. “It looks pretty cool, but I’m pretty
sure Anan from marketing broke his shoulder mountain biking last
year. Plus, I don’t appreciate the crass entendre. Next.”
Two women in Lycra and headgear appear, grappling each other in
a loving embrace.
“MMA: you’ll never guess the strength of these two warrior
princesses.”
“No thanks,” says Hurley Person. “Despite the health benefits I
still find MMA… problematic. Next.”
For a moment, just before the next image displays on his wall,
Hurley Person thinks he hears an almost audible sigh come from the
speaker.
“Your third option.”
A beaming surfer girl appears, her athletic body hidden under
the contours of her full length wetsuit as she rides over the curl
of a blue wave.
“World Surf League presents Lawn Patrol
with Carissa Moore: Follow world champion Carissa
Moore as she takes us through her backyard and explores the heaven
on earth that is the North Shore of Hawaii.”
“Surfing, huh?” says Hurley Person. “I’ve always wanted to be
closer to nature, and those surfer guys I saw being arrested in
South Beach that time had great muscle definition.”
A look of steeled determination creeps across Hurley Person’s
face as he starts his rep of more intensive pilates stretches.
“Siri, let’s try it.”
A series of error noises bip from the speakers.
“Sorry Hurley Person, it is asking us to leave YouTube and visit
an external page to view the video – www dot worldsurfleague dot
com,” says Siri.
“Are these guys for real,” Hurley Person guffaws, “expecting me
to leave a native video hosting platform and to view content on
their own site? Have they not heard of UX?”
Hurley Person stares at the life-size image of Carissa on his
bedroom wall. That beautiful smile. Those all-knowing eyes. She
looks content. Happy. Like she belongs somewhere in this world.
“Whatever,” he says finally. “I’m sure it’s worth it. Take me to
that place.”
For the next twenty minutes Hurley Person watches on enthralled,
as Lawn Patrol melds into Sound Waves
melds into Transformed melds into the latest video of Koa
unboxing.
Each video speaks more and more to the sense of self constructed
in his psyche by a lifetime of subconscious corporate
conditioning.
“Wow, this WSL really feels like an organisation I align with,”
Hurley Person says as the shows finally finish.
“Siri, please follow them on across all of their social media
platforms and sign me up for any newsletters, competitions, or
databases they have available. Be sure to include as much of my
personal information as possible so that they can best tailor their
marketing and communications to me.”
“Yes, Hurley Person.”
“Also,” Hurley Person says, “I want to make sure they can bundle
up my personal data and demographic information to use as alongside
all of the other WSL followers, my new friends, my new tribe, so
that they can attract the investment of other big corporates that
might like to advertise their products to us.
“Of course, Hurley Person.”
Hurley Person drops to the ground and begins doing push ups
while Siri gets to work. He’s barely raised a sweat before she
comes back online.
“You are now a certified member of the World Surf League,” Siri
dutifully reports. “You should now receive notifications of their
updated content via their social media platforms and a bespoke RSS
feed I have specially created for you. I have also signed you up
for an air BnB experience at their next major competition, likely
run date June 2023.”
“Neat-o,” says Hurley Person.
Would you now like to buy some associated products?”
“Well of course I fucking do Siri. What sort of a stupid fucking
question is that?”
A catalogue of items project against the wall.
Hurley man swipes through the album with the wave of a finger,
the biosensors implanted in his fingertips tracking his excited
heart rate as he considers each new product. Each new opportunity
to belong.
“What’s this?” he asks as he pauses on one strange looking
item.
“A Wavestorm Softboard. Perfect for learners and new starters
looking to become waterpeople overnight.”
Hurley Person nods his head.
“But can I also suggest a *Siri’s voice immediately alters into
a coarse, mechanical delivery, that sounds strangely Australian *
J-S Monsta-Box? There are seven salespoints located within a
ten-mile radius of your home.”
“Hmm, no thanks,” says Hurley Person. “I’ll go the softy”
“You will also need a rash vest,” says Siri in her more calming,
feminine voice.
“Can I suggest the Carissa Moore x WSL signature series? Blue,
with white arms.”
“Perfect.”
“You will also need a GoPro to capture all of your surfing
adventures, as well as to record any collisions you may have in the
water for future legal use. Can I suggest the GoPro 10 Hero?”
“Yep, says Hurley Person. “In fact, better get me two.”
“Finally, says Siri., you will need a…” Siri’s voice stops, as
if she is taking a second herself to compute the next item. “A…
beard softener.”
“Oh, word?” Hurley Person fingers his fine brown beard
again.
“Siri, give me the best fucking beard softener there is.”
“Purchasing Hurley brand
beard softener.”
A blue ‘verified’ tick appears on Hurley Person’s bedroom wall,
just as the full light of the morning sun fills the room.
“Congratulations,” says Siri as the apartment explodes into a
thousand brilliant shades of white.
“You are now a surfer. Next item for the day: What would you
like me to order you for breakfast?”
“Hmmm,” says Hurley Person. “Now that’s a tough one.”
