A beautifully mindless shred reel from the world number three…

And, here, Filipe Toledo, on a recent vacay to Sumbawa, a large island in Indonesia that forms a sort of cultural bridge between the Hindus of the West, including Bali, and the Muslims of the East.

Of course you’ll remember, one week ago, watching Filipe canter to a win in Brazil. There’s a certain mix of conditions that almost guarantee the 24-year-old from Ubatuba, Brazil, will place third or better, and Saquarema fulfilled those requirements.

In this short, we find Filipe like a lusty Jupiter assuming the shape of a surfer.

All with the irresistible physicality, spirt and an effervescent energy that captured our hearts five years ago.

Look over the shoulder of the two-time champ during his Gold Coast campaign…

Dignity. Where did it go?

It ain’t in oversupply.

Girls with chubby baby legs posing in bikinis for Instagram accounts and weeping when the pitchforks come out; goddamned spoilt brats being patted on the head and told they rip, can sing, dance, write, whatever, little monsters, all of ’em.

John John Florence is a work of extreme originality.

Who knows what lurks in that heart? In that head?

This short film, which is wildly outdated given it was short during the first event of the year, is a maverick work that is exciting, genuine and funny.

John John does this, John John does that.

“I’m not aggressive enough,” he says at one point.

“John only talks to me when the camera is on,” says Kolohe Andino.

A wildly comic tour de force.

Highly recommended.

Watch and gasp, maybe sob.

There ain’t a lot Italo Ferreira, twenty-five and the world number three, can’t do. He can spin like a bottle and he’ll raise the seat on a Teahupoo barrel and rain down his powerful stream.

In these two-and-a-half minutes, which were filmed around his home of Baia Formosa in north-east Brazil, we get rocketship Italo seeing who can go fastest to the moon.

I asked Timmy Patterson, the American shaper of Italo’s surfboards since he was fifteen, what the secret was.

“Look at how centred he is,” says Timmy. “Surfers are usually forward surfing or tail heavy and he’s so centred. He gets boards to fit into tight little pockets. The flat spot is right between his feet. He can get speed out of anything. He’s got those low centre of gravity tree-trunk legs. I mean, when you watch him, he doesn’t pump or wind up. He stiffens his legs, pushes it and he’s gone. He’s not really sinking his board, just planing. Italo is all natural ability. Guys like Italo have the freest mind to go where they want.”

Watch and gasp, maybe sob.

Occasional world title contender goes ding-dong on famous sand-bottom Mex rights…

This little hit of Jordy in Mex might be sufficient motivation to turn off the Bugs Bunny cartoons or quasi-cinematic television you binge watch on damn Netflix.

Bang on its door and you’ll find two-and-a-half minutes of Jordy Smith, occasional world title contender, going ding-dong on that noted stretch of coast, a few clicks off the Pan-American highway.

If you visit the area, which I encourage you to do, you’ll hear things like, “No prostitutes here, amigo” and “I need your love, Daddy” and “Ungrateful little bitch” and “You motherfucker” and “I wanted to be a pretty girl”.

At some point, late at night, you’ll whisper, “We’ll go away, baby, just you and me, somewheres nice and fancy.”

At least from my experience.