Surf great Kelly Slater lashes out at “young people” and common core math while getting wrong answer on Instagram question!

"The incessant need to be correct is not a virtue."

There is no field that surfing’s renaissance man Kelly Slater doesn’t expert. He’s smarter than most doctors, wiser than historically inaccurate trolls what with his Chinese girlfriend bonafides, a master of math, or maths if the reader finds him(her)self Australian. Yes, the Pipe Masters is currently rounding into its final heat but who cares?

Not me.

I care about the equation 60 ÷ 5 (7 – 4) =

It just so happened to appear on The Tinder Blog, a meme account, with the caption “What’s the answer?? We beefing hard about this in group chat.”

As it also just so happens, I am a pre-K through 5th grade math(s) teacher having accepted the role of “Senior Math(s) Faculty” for a private school consisting of my child and my friends’ children. I failed abysmally at the subject through my own education and figured I could right wrongs.

In any case, Slater jumped straight into the comments with a searing comment, penning, “Amazing confidence in wrong answers here, even from math teachers. It’s 4. But I suppose younger people learning common core math might be confused. Gotta handle the parenthesis first and that includes multiplication before division.”

Shockingly, the GOAT was wrong.

I worked the equation and came up with 144 though that may be wrong too.

In any other case, many came in and pointed out the 24 ÷ 2 World Surf League Champion’s fault and did he take it?

No.

He spent multiple hours arguing his case before, at the end, rolling over with a banger, declaring, “The incessant need to be correct is not a virtue. Get some rest, take the W, and have a little fun with the mistakes in life.”

Slater, wrongly, adding a comma before the “and have a little fun with the mistakes in life.”

Does he strike you as someone who heeds that poignant advice?

I hate surfing.

But what is the answer?

Gotta teach tomorrow.


Open Thread, Comment Live on Final’s Day of the Pipe Masters

Ok, fine. Here.


Locals made mad.
Locals made mad.

French Olympic organizers vow to press on with the difficult work of infuriating Teahupo’o locals

The tower to rise again.

The five ringed circus of Olympic surfing’s reprise in Teahupo’o is really… something. From glee in all corners, save Filipe Toledo’s, about the show being put on at “The Place of Broken Skulls,” to talk about replacing the old wooden judging tower with a new fangled aluminum one to “testing” how ecologically friendly it would be by driving a barge over the reef, it has all been nothing if not… comical.

Oh certainly not for the blessed few who actually call Teahupo’o home. For them, and by extension surfers everywhere, this is a matter of right and wrong. Of fighting the almost un-fightable battle against greed. Well, the French organizers, yesterday, declared that work on the tower will begin, again, this week after agreements were reached with the protesting locals.

According to the Associated Press, Tony Estanguet, head of the Paris Olympics organizing committee, is pressing ahead after sorting out a smaller barge that will run between the reef instead of over it. He also agreed that the first test “went very badly.”

There was no note regarding which protesting groups agreed and what they agreed to. Hopefully everyone is satisfied but, man, I’ve got to hand it to the French Olympic committee. The folk who live down at the end of the road are about as kind as they come. Infuriating them all a very heavy lift.

Also, importantly, what does Kanoa Igarashi think?

Faire un paiement est simple comme bonjour.


How did Vans and WSL kill the only unkillable thing in surfing?

"The death of the Pipe Masters is a tragedy beyond tragedy."

The surf journalist Chas Smith, an old flirt with expressive soft hands and a slightly gaunt northern European face, is well-known here and in the broader surf world, a writer who knows how to use minor characters to humiliate and belittle their protagonists.

When he stretches his delicate fingers in the air and clicks them like castanets, publishers come running.

You know the books, Welcome to Paradise Now Go to Hell, Cocaine and Surfing, Reports from Hell and Blessed Are the Bank Robbers. 

As Daniel Duane wrote in Outside Magazine,

Cocaine + Surfing is a dazzling page-turner, highly-recommended beach reading, and absolutely the funniest book ever written about surfing. To hold those contradictions together in one’s mind, it helps to recognize that Smith’s literary models do not include serious works like my man Warshaw’s scholarly History of Surfing or William Finnegan’s Pulitzer-Prize winning Barbarian Days; A Surfing Life.

Cocaine + Surfing belongs, rather, to the honorable lemons-into-lemonade lineage that begins with Ross McElwee’s cult-classic 1986 documentary film Sherman’s March: A Meditation on the Possibility of Romantic Love In the South During an Era of Nuclear Weapons Proliferation, in which McElwee tries to make a film about the civil war but ends up interviewing all his ex-girlfriends instead, and Geoff Dyer’s Out of Sheer Rage: Wrestling with D. H. Lawrence, an unforgettable book about not writing a book about D. H. Lawrence.

All of which is meaningless except as a chip shot into BeachGrit’s new vlog series, Chas Smith Hates Surfing where, with an affectionate scorn for the sport, Smith turns his eye to the week’s events.

Cruel but essential.


Russell Bierke “sanctioned by god and law” in surf edit being called best of 2023!

Russell Bierke's new film delivers a pleasure usually reserved for cats who sleep on velvet cushions and are fed chicken breasts.

Russell Bierke, twenty-six years old, is the deceptively fragile looking son of noted Californian-born shaper Kirk Bierke whose boards are sold under the label KB Surf and made in Ulladulla, three hours south of Sydney.

Russell Bierke commands such a reputation he needs very little introduction, although a little background never hurts, does it?

Russell Bierke is diminutive and old world, with a tight mouth and very plain-face that have the ferocity of an angry cuckold, a cranky Italian denied his lunchtime siesta.

Russel Bierke’s earliest memories are of watching his dad run out the door whenever the surf was big, going to the beach and seeing him ride these big, blue-water reef waves, and wanting to be part of the game.

In 2017, he was “blue as a Smurf” and “on all fours spewing” after a wipeout in fifteen waves in Victoria, an injury that put him in intensive care.

You’ll have seen period edits of Russell Bierke over the years, of course.

His latest, Outer Edge of Leisure, which was made with the cooperation of the ever fabulous O’Neill company (hello Rob Bain, still one of the best in the biz) and by the hand of Andrew Kaineder, delivers the sort of pleasure usually reserved for plump cats who sleep on velvet cushions and are fed chicken breasts.

The presser reads,

Amidst a boundless expanse of turbulent waves and remote seascapes, Russ emerges as a silhouette on the horizon, the tempestuous waters his canvas. Each wave is not a battleground to conquer, but an opportunity to be in tune with the rhythm of the ocean’s pulse.

Contrasting B&W 16mm and Hi-Res cinematography, set to a unique solo drum scape ‘Outer Edge of Leisure’ takes you on a visual journey as Russ Bierke redefines his own idea of surfing as a leisure activity.

Essential.