2-15-12 by Rumorator

I said strive, I should have said thrive.

1th:
I knew him back in the day.

That’s pretty much how I’m gonna have to talk about flawsyfiles now. Well not really back in the day, but definitely for a year-ish. A-man swept the e-nets shredit world by storm a couple days ago. This is way better that the slow motion video of the BCA airbag saving life.

If you somehow haven’t seen his video yet, watch it:

Scarier And Also Cherrier from a man on Vimeo.

Seriously, somebody give this dude a job making these edits all day.

2rd:
This is a video that more people need to watch:

3st:
Mega-performance weekend. Tonight, I’m going to see Demetri Martin say things that should make me laugh. Tomorrow, I’m off to see to Kill A Mocking Bird and eat dinner with the fam. Sunday it’s time to ride with Keef and hopefully Moefaniel. I’ll do some tricks or something.

4nd:
As a whole, Madison needs to get it’s trivia game in order.

I’m still trying to figure out what TravisR did with all these cartels?

Because now, a few weeks later, he’s clearly C3-ed the fuck out in the after image.

Man, look at that podium. TravisR, Gigi and Nico. C3 and Nike have got to be stoke. This is one of those things where I really think Big B let people slide too early, in regards to Gigi and Nico.

Ahh whatever, no one under 30 gave a shit about the Thupernatch.

In more marketable news, Kelly Clark failed to the Canadian Open halfpipe event. The women’s one. I guess Jesus was not on her side this time.

Shayve’s honesty box: I heisted that second pic from the tackledbox.

One thing you should probably now about me is that I have spent some time in the south. Not the glamorous south like Miami or Atlanta or South Lake Tahoe, but the ugly south. I’m talking about places like Florence, South Carolina and Tupelo, Mississippi and Pall Mall, Tennessee. These are places where they don’t celebrate Black History Month, mostly because they still use the term “colored.” Most of my time there was spent trying to explain to people the ridiculousness of their statements.

“You do realize the inaccuracies of what you are saying, don’t you?” I would ask. “Certainly you are aware black is an absence of color, and white is the amalgamation of all color. Thus, YOU are the true coloreds here. I mean, it’s simple additive color theory.”

My statements were often met with silence and cold stares. Sometimes there would be mumbled statements of my “highfalutin education,” and how “Jesus didn’t make no color theories,” and how I should hope that this same “Jesus” will save my “soul.”

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, as white tends to reflect all things. White takes nothing in, it absorbs nothing. Have you ever heard of a white hole? I thought not. I should have expected that these southern whites (the true coloreds) would not pick up what I was putting down.

Having put this in perspective for you, I will now honor 5 great moments in black history:

The Black Plague: In the mid 1340s African scholars deemed the European countries were on a course for disaster. They knew if these European countries weren’t stopped there would be a rise in war, intolerance, and National Socialism. In an attempt to stop the coming future, these scholars employed a team of bacterial researchers who developed the Bubonic (which means black) plague and sent it off to Europe on the backs of warrior rats. While the Plague was not 100 percent successful it did put off the social ills the scholars foresaw for about 550 years.

The movie that shaped the past's future.

Black Coffee: It’s said that coffee was named for a young Ethiopian shepherd, Kaldi, who noticed his goat herd would get a little wiry after eating the berries of the Pamgrier plant. In reality, coffee was named BY a time-traveling, Ethiopian goat shepherd, who traveled to the mid-1970s and saw a screening of Coffy. When he returned he concocted a brewed beverage made from the seeds of the berries of the Pamgrier plant. He found this drink to make him very energetic. He then proclaimed “I like my brewed beverages like I like my blaxploitation films—black and keeping me up all night. Thus, I shall call this drink ‘coffy.”

In this case, Coffee was simply a transliteration of “Coffy” from the American English dialect of African-American urbanites of the time. Much the way the common American name “Nia” is to the Arabic term “Niyyah” which means to devote all of one’s actions to Allah.

Kaldi then finished off his coining of the term “coffee” by saying, “and don’t give me any of that creamer bullshit.”

The Hollywood Blacklist: The legend of the Hollywood Blacklist is similar to that of the passenger manifest in Lost, except this list features better actors and is much more satisfying to follow. The blacklist was crafted over 10 years from 1947-56. The sacred seer of Hollywood, then-actor Ronald Regan, chose the names of the Hollywood Ten. These are the only ten black actors and directors who will ever be allowed to win major Academy Awards.  In Regan’s own words. “We are talking about winning awards here. We’ll nominate a bunch black people, and it’s an honor just to be nominated you know, but like 10 non-white folks are gonna win these awards, at the most. Also, I will go on to become president and pretty much castrate the middle class. Thank you.” Spike Lee’s name is not on this list.

The Black Hand: There is the popular myth that Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated by Gavrilo Princip’s Black Hand over a sandwich, leading to the outbreak of World War One. This myth has been propagated over generations, twisted into a form of racial code and now has many eastern European, white folks (the true coloreds) believing that a man with a black hand eating a sandwich is very likely to shoot you in the backseat of your automobile.

Blackstreet: No diggity. I’ve got to bag it up.

Let me guess, you’ve come to my blog looking for tips on how to throw the best Super Bowl party ever. And all the other blogger sites just keep telling you to “have plenty of drinks (even non-alcoholic ones, hehe)” and “just wrap it in bacon.”

Well shit, I got some real tips to help you enjoy the Super Bowl.

Make the game high stakes. Upon your guests arriving, ask them which team they are backing. Make a note of their response. Every time the Gigantes score, the Patriots fans lose a finger. When the Patriots score, Gigantes fans lose a finger.

Install flame throwers and confetti cannons that will discharge whenever there is a score, or jared, the piece of shit from the Subway ads, shows up on the screen.

Try some exotic snacks. We’ve already covered that bacon is over. Way over. So why not go way out and get some horse meat. But don’t tell your guests until after they have eaten. If you really want to take this to the next level, invite your neighbor and feed him his own cat. After the game hand him the cat’s collar as a parting gift.

Be sure to arrange the seating properly. For this, make sure everyone can easily see the television. In fact it’s better if people cannot make eye contact with each other. No one needs that kind of shame. Also supply blankets.

Every time someone says “I’m only watching it for the commercials,” they lose a finger.

Find out what station the Super Bowl is on. Now make sure your don’t get that station. This will probably anger some guests, so be sure to have Tecmo Bowl ready to play when things get heavy.

It’s a real downer to mention how many millions of dollars it costs the government to have a fly over from fighter jets. To lighten the mood I usually mention that I could stand out there and wave my dick around for like $6.

Taco Dip!

Make it an entire Super Bowl season. For the next three weeks, whenever someone mentions, with an air of smugness about them, they didn’t watch the Super bowl, or at least get a little drunkish, throw them in a headlock and tell them about America. How we conquered the Indians, created the bald eagle, and goddammit, we watch the Super Bowl. Unless of course the Super Bowl non-watcher was riding snowboards.

Sit around and wait for this ad to come on:

Then think about these dudes rolling around in piles of money:

And then think about the day Brad and I were in a scooter gang.

BTW: totally took that pic from the hometapes website.

1th-Photodump This was our rental ride. Kind of excessive. And we kind of abused it, but it was a pretty cush ride. Mega-global warming going on here. It cost me $17 to drive from Frisco to DIA. It also reminded me how much XM radio sucks asses.

Mandatory picture of the window licking bear at the convention center. I’m actually kind of a fan of this piece of art. It’s neat.

This is my boss getting down with a SpiritHood that we are supposed to be product testing. In case you couldn’t tell we are in the Anon booth. They have some ridiculous M1 goggles coming out next year. Magenetic snap-in/snap-out  lens changery. I’m curious about how hard I will have to fall to bust them loose.

This is probably my favorite Capita board for next year, although the entire fucking line is sick. Always is, to be honest. How you gonna go wrong with a woman with fangs and a pentagram on her head. Feels like a winner to me. I was all stoked to ride one on Monday, January 30th when Bloggerman, WWD, told me No media rides. Then, hours later, this floats through my twitter trough: REJECTED!

This was the saddest lunch ever.

Boss lady again. Tired, frustrated and hiding out. But hey, TRice is now riding for hOme watches!

I was at the Shag Lounge in downtown Denver, and I saw this Schlitz piece, so I ordered a Tall Boy of Schlitz. I was told they didn’t have it. WTF?

Everyone’s favorite brand: TheHundred

Then later in the evening when you hit up a friend regarding your location and this is the reply, you gotta call bullshitz. FACTS: We were in Denver, bru, in January, it was like 3 in the morning. And that is some summer, morning lighting if I’ve ever seen it. You can’t just drop these on someone and pretend they’re real-time. Up the game, friend.

This is dude is a radder. Non-stopper. As for that bandaner, that was on a stripper moments before this pic was taken. It was also not appreciated by the Banditos Motorcycle Club, who were also in the place.

This is where the trip went soft for me. In Boulder, touring a fake tea factory. This was tea bag dress is in the main lobby and nearly the highlight of the tour, until Tali started laughing at the “Teabagging Station. ” To be fair you need to picture the ridiculous Celestial Seasonings bear just dangling his balls over the Morning Thunder buffalison. Plop plop!

I did eventually  go snowboarding. I was riding Salomon boards the whole time because I was cockblocked at Capita. I always forget how fucking fast  and snappy their boards are. Their new bindings were kind of okay. Plus, I could ride their boards switch, I guess that counts for some reason. Here’s what I liked #1 The Man’s Board: Because it had juggs on it #2 The Salomonder: Because it had hardwood basketball court graphixxx #3 the Villian: Probably a better ride than the Salomonder, but the graphixxx weren’t as rad. I’m just going to assume that the person who produces these stickers doesn’t have a super mega-energy drink contract.

This is the crew I get to run with.

I’ve been doing the Yobeat thing over the past few days.  It’s been wicked fun.  Serious hilarity every twelve seconds. You should probably read about the weekend over on the site.

Megatradeshow week:

Yesterday, I found myself at a tradeshow in Chicago that was specifically for people who do things like run buildings. It was super-busy. Filled with dudes with biznass hair. All those dudes were showing their foreheads. The rest of the uniform consisted of a suit with azultooth, or dockers and a polo shirt blasting your company name. I was not fitting in very well. On the other hand it was rad to see my work in action.

Regarding this tradeshow: If you want to see some serious corpo-big brother action, stay alert to the work of businesses offering building solutions. They can smell you.

Also, shout out to part-time bloggerman, part-time mega-marketer Andre Wenzy of Boards & Brews who was there heating it up. I said hello and we spoke awkwardly for about 4 minutes.

Contrast all of that with SIA which goes down this weekend. I will look like the stiff, but still accept your beers. Thank you.

TheChicagoManualofStyleSixteenthEdition Brown and the Mystery of the Wrecked Wrist:

Upon returning home yesterday my wrist was sore. But not that “I’ve been masturbating for 6 hours” kind of sore. Plus, it was my left wrist. I stretched it out a bit and eventually went to sleep. This morning I am in 100% crippler mode. I would guess I have 50% range of motion and gripping strength. Plus it seems like it might be a little swollen, but that may just be my perception or my weight issues.

Now the question is, how has this happened? I haven’t put any extraordinary stress on the wrist as of late. I haven’t been to a house party, so this isn’t some I-was-so-wasted-and-woke-up-with-bruised-ribs-and-some-forgettable-leaning-towards-regrettable-broad situation.

Can you solve the mystery?

Karmic:

Yesterday, in the rain/snow I was walking to work and was hit with a tidal wave of gutter slush from a passing car. Head-to-toe splashed. I did my best seakkle and just kept walking. What else could I do? The moment it happened I was going to scream, but almost instantly something stopped me. I knew it was payback. Over a decade later the karmic forces have caught up to me.

It starts like this: A 17-year old Rumorator, behind the wheel of a, oddly khaki-colored VW station wagon. It is early spring. The snowbanks are melting. The sun this time of year in Northern Wisconsin gives a false sense of warmth. In the Volkswagen, the windows are down, Fugazi is in the tapedeck, Wheeler is riding in the passenger seat. We still had enough time before work at the YMCA to drive aimlessly and maybe smoke one more cigarette. We hadn’t even left the Third Ward when we saw him. Older, probably in his 60s, standing on the apron of his driveway between the sidewalk and the street. He was breaking away the layers and layers of ice that had been forming since November.

No more than five feet from him was a puddle of spring’s thaw. Dirty with salt and sand and the debris that accumulates during five months of no street sweeping. Wheeler and I knew what needed to be done. He began to roll up the window on his side. I shifted down into 2nd and pressed the accelerator. We rocketed towards the murk with the light roar of a German car that is passed its prime, but still had the strength propel itself towards this puddle or keep pace at 90mph after a long day of snow-boarding, and would until it was crashed into a deer on new year’s day. The whir of that motor didn’t phase the man in his driveway. He keep working even as the car hit the puddle, covering him with the largest slush wave a car like that could ever create.

I imagine, as he shook the slush and grime from his arms, he turned to see the car, to hear the mo-tor, now mixed with the laughter of youth, rounding the corner and speeding away. Not once did the feeling of guilt settle over us in that car. We knew funny when we saw it. We continued laughing for a few minutes. When the laughing finally died we turned the car back towards the scene and washed that dude one more time.

That is why I had to just keep walking yesterday morning.

Artist in Residence:

Shout out to The Second Inventor of the Worm, who was awarded a residency in Gwangju, South Korea

Dude is shooting films. Blasting.

Mouthful of Metal:

I ate at Kuma’s Korner last night. I had the Megadeth burger. Still felt like a pussy.

The future:

I’m probably gonna feel like this by the weekend:

So I’m about one hour into hearing of Sarah Burke’s passing. It’s a weird feeling. I can’t say that I followed her career closely, or that I knew all that much about her. But I knew of her. I was aware of freeskiing.

I spend so much of my time just busting on skiers, because in the last ten years they have tried to so hard to be snowboarders (disregard the fact that snowboarders have spent the last 35 years trying to be skateboarders). But credit has to be given where credit is due. Sarah Burke could rip:

I even have mixed emotions about posting that video. Those announcers are just horrible. But hopefully you can pick up what I’m putting down. She was good, at the top of her game and she was pushing it. So much respect has to go out to her for that.

I’m not going to deny that her death is tragic, or that I can even imagine what her friends and family are feeling right now. But I gather she lived lived her life well, I suspect she never stopped living it to the fullest.

Much like when I learned of Craig Kelly’s death years ago. It’s saddening. It’s a hard thing to lose a hero. But somewhere in that loss is a sense of pride for the hero. They were doing what they loved. They knew there were risks involved and they still progressed, because living without skiing or snowboarding probably wouldn’t be living to them.

As fans all we can do is keep them alive in all of our aspirations to want to ride like they did.

I don’t think I’m a very good coper.

Hey Guys, Look who’s back! It’s Simon and JP getting gnarly and supa-wicked.

Now, just so we are all on the same train here, I’ve never been a huge fan of JP or Simon. I don’t doubt they’re riding skillzz, it’s more that I’m just not feeling their approach. Plus JP openly likes to be called “The Don,” which is some tacky-ass shit.

So I found this nugget of interesting, dropped over on the MODA3 blog:

They are releasing a trailer for a web series that won’t be out in until next season. They have named the series Absolute Jibberish, which ranks pretty high on the Frank-Lupus Hackocity Scale. It earned the kind of ranking that kept me from naming this blog Kenny Bloggins or We B Log Together.

Then again this is the industry that continues to give us:

• Premature Jibulation
• Jibassic Park
• PB and Rail Jam
• Torah Bright

But back to what we’re really looking at here. We’ve got a trailer for a web series that comes out next season. The trailer shows JP and Simon hangering out together. Blobviously they are snowboardering around. So why they fuck are the already not producing episodes of this web series? People are barely willing to wait to see real shred flicks, what makes these two think people will wait more than 3 minutes for this web series. There are 100 crews out there nailing rails and performing jibbery ever day. And tonight someone from their crew is going to go home, edit the “stacked footy”, pirate some song, put it all together and get it up on Yobeat. Sure they aren’t all amazing, but look what the Tahoe Dangerzone Crew did—ridiculous riding, insane-o concepts and all of it up within days of it getting shot.

A teaser for a web series is going about it all wrong, but then again my dad thinks twitter is stupid as well. Whatever.

YAY JIBBERISH!

Bonus: What the fuck was with Gator II’s incredibly normal appearance on Conan the other night?