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Now, I sincerely doubt the claim this ad makes that “Nokia pushes skating” since that seems like, you know, basically 100% bullshit. And I sincerely doubt even the most consumer-driven 14-year-old skate groms would fall for such blatantly obvious, meritless marketing nonsense. That said, Danny Brady is a fantastic skateboarder (regardless of who made the cell phone in his pocket, I’m sure) and this commercial is still super entertaining even if the messaging is completely fucking ridiculous.

Apparently the full story behind this ad is that there is an accompanying chip that is stuck on the board, and allows the phone to recognize the board’s movements along the x, y, and z axis, calculate the trick based on that, and then award you points. And then you can… brag to your friends about how many points you just earned… even though they’d probably be impressed by you doing awesome tricks in the first place? I’m not sure why anybody would want to make real skateboarding seem more like a video game, considering most skate video games try to simulate real skateboarding. Frankly, the entire thing seems largely, heh, pointless. I don’t understand the actual value of doing any of this but I guess if it helps the TV zombie retards of the future relate better to skating, then so be it.

And if the ad dollars have to go somewhere, I’d rather them into the hands of a talented skateboarder. Even if the guy writing the checks doesn’t have a fucking clue about actual skateboarding. And I don’t say that just because Nokia’s pretending to be providing a legitimate service to skaters. They also straight up don’t know anything about skateboarding, as evidenced by Brady doing a backside 50-50 on that bench and then cutting to him doing a backside crooked grind. I don’t know, maybe that’s how far Nokia is capable of pushing skateboarding and I’m just stuck in the past.

And yeah, I probably am… but skateboarding would probably benefit from that as well.

Lukewarm, leftover photographs might not be quite as appetizing as cold, congealed pizza, but it’s the order of the day. I’ve been pushing these scraps around for at least a month, waiting for them to reveal their usefulness. However, I’m doing a bit of late summer cleaning this week (more on that tomorrow), so it was time for the photos to go, and I’ve decided to lump them all together into a steaming hot pile of randomness. Dig in, guys!

I took this shot when I was stoned out of my gourd one night, and it seemed way more interesting to me at the time. Speaking of which, here’s the cause…

Later on, I was enjoying some of the previously documented loopy lettuce, and a very strange buzzing sound started emanating from my kitchen. When I went to investigate, I discovered this little creature perched on the windowsill. Pretty sure it was a spy from another world — and to his homeland he did return, frightened off by the camera flash like an alien starlet caught in the paparazzi’s bursting lights. Good riddance, martian.

Just kidding, please come back and take me with you. I can bribe you with orange soda, if that’s any kind of incentive. It’s “big daddy size” — not sure if that can tackle an alien’s thirst or not.

Also, to explain the photo on the left — ghosts apparently stuck my shower curtain to the radiator one night. A lot of pretty supernatural shit goes down here, believe it or not.

Okay, powering down.

The rise of affordable high-quality digital video cameras and the increasing ease and accessibility of desktop publishing within the past couple years is revolutionizing the way we view skateboarding footage. Today, any kid with dreams of being the next Greg Hunt or Ty Evans can put a very nice digital camera on their Christmas list one year, and by the time the snow melts they can be turning out pro-quality clips on the Internet. It’s redefined how we perceive footage coming from even the most illustrious pros in the industry. Skate footage no longer seems special or exciting thanks to the massive amount of super-saturation occurring within Vimeo and YouTube. Nonetheless, hordes of talented and hungry new filmmakers are amassing across the suburbs of the United States and it won’t be long before they begin infiltrating the industry itself.

Here’s a pretty, uh, pretty example of some local filmers doing some classy, solid work. This is a teaser for Post22’s upcoming full length video, Film & Destroy.

Ultimately, one would hope that this boom of eager, fresh talent would result in a lot of new ideas and styles being brought to skateboarding videography and filmmaking, but to date, there seems to be disproportionate amount of copy-catting rather than anything original. Perhaps this is just a case of young filmers learning the ropes before they feel comfortable enough to experiment on their own. Or maybe the younger generation’s ability to think creatively is underdeveloped thanks to the media shitstorm wrapping its tendrils around every aspect of our lives. It will be increasingly difficult to be a free-thinker when you’re raised from birth surrounded by talking screens telling you not to think for yourself.

However, as has been the case for decades now, if we stay true to skateboarding, skateboarding will stay true — and skateboarding in its most honest form has always been a great catalyst for creativity. So go forth, camera nerds of the future, make something pretty.

The Schedule of The Ded is a little mixed up this week, since we have something of an announcement to make on Friday. That means a doodle on Friday, photos tomorrow, and for today? Why, lookee here, it’s one of those obscure hip hop posts that nobody actually likes to read!

Nonetheless, should you choose to cautiously crack open that barricaded vault you call your mind, you may actually be rewarded this time. Either that, or this song has just been stuck in my head for a week and it’s time to spread the virus around. After all, misery loves company. Okay, that’s a really terrible lead-in to some music I’m supposed to be recommending. Let’s start over… even though this is what, like, 5 tweets long already? I’m doomed.

Fortunately, Lateef & The Chief’s description should be a fine recommendation on its own. Comprised of Lateef the Truth Speaker, one-half of the nigh-legendary Latryx, providing the rhymes, and Chief Xcel, Blackalicious’ producer extraordinaire, working the boards, this partnership would have a hard time doing any wrong. Despite collaborating on various Quannum Projects releases over the years, Maroons: Ambush is the duo’s first (and only) extended recording. Chief Xcel brings the level of furious funk that listeners familiar with his work on the Blackalicious albums will expect. Likewise, Lateef is nothing short of furious with his rapid-fire, emphatic delivery. And here is a cute picture of them looking all growed up and shit.

Lateef and Chief Xcel - photo via ragingartists.com

2004’s Ambush was intended as a teaser for the group’s official full length. Unfortunately, that project has yet to surface. Nonetheless, this EP is one hell of an accomplishment, holding its own against any of Quannum’s other classic releases, regardless of its brief runtime. It’s a political, volatile album, full of potent commentary thinly veiled within Lateef’s rasping poetry — and all the while Chief Xcel’s upbeat, bass-heavy beats are as full of depth and rich instrumentation as ever, driving each song into a kind of hypnotic, head-bobbing bliss.

True to its title, this track might very well be the best of the album. Gift of Gab makes an appearance so… yeah. It’s basically perfect.

The reason this album succeeds so definitively is doubtlessly due to Lateef and Chief Xcel’s long friendship — years of working together surely lead to a surplus of ideas and well-developed chemistry that served them handily on this effort. The contrast within Lateef’s signature mixture of intricate yet sing-songy rhyming with battle-rap intensity matches perfectly with Chief Xcel’s funky bass kicks underneath a consistently interesting atmosphere of flute, keyboards, and horns. The songs bounce along so well you’d hardly notice Lateef’s metaphor-laden, socially-conscious lyrics. Although that’s not to say you won’t notice his energetic growl racing atop the lush production. There really isn’t much on the appropriately-named Ambush that won’t demand your attention. Check it out, it’s easily worth the half hour you’ll spend listening to it.

While we’re on the topic of what’s “real” today… trashy television was better before stupid reality came along and fucked everything up. Taken out of context… actually, fuck it, even in context, these screen shots are so hilarious I’m going to put them in my time capsule in a folder labeled “hilarious.”

That was too much. Anyway —

Idol hands are the devil’s workshop, and well… I have a lot of free time.

It is a well-known stereotype that Catholics are filled with guilt, since, after all, sin is fucking everywhere. I just sinned by using the word, “fuck,” for christ’s sake. And again, for using the lord’s name in vain. It’s fucking endless. Being that I was raised Roman Catholic, I can vouch for this sense of guilt, as I carry it with me on a daily basis. Guilt over being tricked into believing in god for so goddamned long.

Religion is Viagra for the dick living inside each and every one of us — that selfish little prick who can’t accept that we merely exist, and for no real reason except for existence’s sake, and that there is no great big 5-star resort or luxury condominium in the sky to retire in once we die. There is no good answer to that ever-nagging question, “Why?” Understandably, the little guy is kind of insecure and needs some support. He can’t stand up for himself in a world, let alone a universe, where so much is out of our control.

Or you know, he could stop being so self-centered and try using his brain. It’s not just for dorks and losers, even if that’s what they taught you in school.

Anyway, apologies to any true believers in the audience. I mean well — for the species, mostly, not so much for you — but I know, nobody wants to hear a sermon, right? Uh…

I’ve seen a lot of skateboarding videos since I caught the bug a decade ago, but this part alone has stood the test of time — Chris Haslam and Cooper Wilt’s mountain-boarding bonus section in Cheese and Crackers. Skateboarding at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.

Mountain-boarding should so be in the summer X-Games. If people could practice at Rob Dyrdeck’s Fantasy Foam Pit (and I can’t imagine MTV wouldn’t be interested in that), dudes will be backflipping on these shits in no time. Which would, obviously, be the worst thing to ever happen to skateboarding, but man… the sponsors, they’d love it.

Here’s a collection of random snaps from some of my recent travels. Nothing too amazing here, just some slightly interesting angles and a few odd subjects.

The fact that they even have to say it… kinda gross.

I guess Roxanne finally took Sting’s advice. The red light is off.

That’s all for now, children. Daddy was outside all day and being away from the computer that long really sapped my strength.

I have no idea what the fuck this is, but the depths of the Internet have rewarded me this morning. I should clarify, I have no idea what the fuck this is, except that it is awesome.

Anybody know what this thing’s story is? Or will it simply exist, mysteriously gyrating forever, forever torturing me in kind?

Nice work sticking up for the sisterhood, gals.

Oh, irony, if it weren’t for you our culture might have to come up with something original. Welcome to our generation’s legacy — media eating media eating media until its innards burst and the media-saturated guts spray all over a wall already dripping with media-saturated, regurgitated guts. It’s like an infinite Russian Doll of reappropriation until you finally go insane and kill yourself, only for your friends to reappropriate your death all over their Facebook walls, which also happen to be coated with media-saturated guts.

Though, the girl beat boxing is pretty much on point, I’ll give her that.

Sorry, I’m in a shitty mood and am torn between finding this amusing or annoying. I guess, stripped of all context, it is pretty funny. Nonetheless, it’s not really “taking the song back,” even if it is performed by an all-girl group, considering they’re still singing about how “bitches” are good for nothing but sucking dick. And the real trouble is, I can’t help but remember how goddamned irritating people in a cappella groups are from back in my college days. And it’s because they’d all be patting themselves on the back while retooling classic pop songs as if they were doing the music a fucking favor and not the other way around. If it wasn’t for the original songs, none of you sweater vest wearing fucks would have ever gotten laid. Okay, rant over. Resume your normal activities… oh, wait, something completely nutty from the YouTube peanut gallery first:

Yeah well, 3 million wannabes bought the album, bitch.

Another work week comes to a close, and you know what that means…

Take that how you will.

Good afternoon lighting is an essential part of my daily nutrient regimen. I’m like an anti-vampire. Maybe that makes the whole ambiguous “time to kill” statement a little less intimidating? Probably - hopefully - not, though. These days, thanks to Edward Cullen and The Emos, vampires are about as intimidating as a Taylor Swift concert.

Although, come to think of it… going to a Taylor Swift concert would be a pretty terrifying undertaking. I think I can feel the blackest parts of my heart already springing back to life, fresh growth popping up through the charcoal like nature reclaiming its territory after a catastrophic volcano blast, just from writing the name “Taylor Swift.” Mirrors, crucifixes, garlic… these things don’t faze me, but my god… teenage purity is a thought too repellent to bear.