"Covid tests are being used as conduits for microchips to be implanted into our bodies that ultimately will be used to make us slaves that mine cryptocurrencies."
There is, I’ll posit, no better journal of surfing than Dane Reynolds and Mini Blanchard’s Chapter 11 TV channel.
It is, simultaneously, wicked, innocent, provocative, intellectual, magnetic.
Very much like its master Reynolds, who is thirty-five and the last bulwark of a sport in the grip of its darkest enemy, the chilling rise of the adult beginner, the VAL-apocalypse.
In a sprawling thought piece surrounding today’s episode, Reynolds is heckled at Zuma,
It looked fun enough so I suited up and ran up the beach to where there was a hole in the crowd. A guy parked in a black Porsche SUV starts yelling out his window “Fuckin beat it Reynolds go back to Silver Strand and leave your cameraman at home you fuckin kook…” I laughed and gave him a sympathy nod cause I thought it was an attempt at humor but as I keep running and his yelling gets fainter I realize he isn’t joking and now it actually becomes funny. The last words I hear is ‘that’s what I thought.’
In the water a man suggests Reynolds might wanna get into non-fungible tokens or NFTs.
Out in the water a long haired fellow on a soft top asks if he can have 30 seconds of my time for a business pitch. You can’t really say no so he proceeds to inform me that NFT’s are all the rage and they could be right up my alley.
“What are NFT’s?” Well shit, I still don’t quite understand but someone is creating something called crypto punks which are 8 bit digital art files that are being traded for millions of dollars. Fuckin crazy. My brain does not compute. Fascinating and foreign. Why would you want ownership of this art? Why is it crypto? What the fuck?
Reynolds, in good form, questions life in 2021.
Is there a Satanist Cabal BBQ’ing babies at George Soros’ house while Bill Gates implants tracking devices in every human being or is half the population losing their goddamn minds?
The soundtrack is characteristically superb and includes song one from Ween’s 12 Gold Country Greats, I’m Holding You.
“I’m trippin’, writhin’ and squealin’, pukin’,” sings Gene Ween.