Tonight is the most hallowed of all eves, the eve of hallowed weens. With that in mind, happy hallowedest of wieners from your friends, Dedleg and Gozer The Destructor. And don’t settle for any bad candy tonight. Unless by “bad candy,” you actually mean drugs. But those orange styrofoam peanuts? Yeah, you can leave those at the door.
This clip from a little Nike SB trip to China is just more proof, as far as I’m concerned.
The YouTube Goon Squad agrees, too:
It’s an interesting trio to take — on the one hand you’ve got Zigram23, the most technically advanced skateboarding Terminator ever designed. Then you’ve got, as I said, the skateboarding Jesus, and finally, Alex Campbell, a… uh… skateboarding… skateboarder? What does it all mean? What’s the common thread? Well, they’re all Australian, of course. The Aussies Take China Tour. I’m not sure if that’s what the name of the tour actually was, but in any case… it should have been.
The most important thing to take away from this clip, though, I think, is every one of Nick Boserio’s tricks. Dude is just fucking killing it. That bomb he throws over the corner in that paradise of a skate spot at 3:32 is just unreal. What ever it is about his maniac, seconds-from-death style really tickles my skateboarding bone.
Sorry. Couldn’t help myself, New York. Be safe, stay inside, and stay high… literally and figuratively.
There might be a monster of a storm ravaging the East Coast right now, but let’s not forget mother nature isn’t the only merciless killer on a rampage out there. No, man-made food products have been doing that just fine for quite some time now.
That’s right, kids! Energy drinks aren’t just killing skateboarding anymore — now they’re killing average, normal human beings, in addition to us measly subhumans!
Is that “Absolutely Zero” short for “Absolutely zero reasons why you should put this liquid inside your body” by any chance?
Generally speaking, anything that tastes that much like chemicals is probably not so good for you to be ingesting with any regularity.
Thinking about how I slurped down some of this deathly swill mere days ago is making me feel a little bit bad about myself now… but I guess I probably should feel bad about that regardless of any silly “health scares” or whatever. It sounds strange to say, but there are plenty of reasons not to pour any of this shit into your guts aside from the fact that it could be potentially fatal. For one, thing it tastes like an old shipment of Ecto Cooler that got lost in Chernobyl for about a decade. Beyond that though, it’s got to be one of the single lamest brands in the great, cavernous Action Sports Hall of Lameness, which is quite a testament to just how uncool it is, let me tell you. Hell, the fact that this shit could kill you actually almost makes it cooler.
I’m going out of town for the weekend, ya’ll. The Hulkster goes to Heaven.
Pitchfork: At various points in your career, it seems like you could’ve started working with people within the rap establishment but you never did it. Any particular reason?
Slug: I don’t want this to sound weird, but I don’t want to make music with people I don’t know, so fuck that. I don’t want to end up being that guy on a song with some guy who, later in life, beats the shit out of his wife or kicks puppies or something.
Hip hop with priorities other than getting like 30 chainz or pursuing a career in skateboarding. Huh. Go figure.
Just one more reason why Atmosphere will always be one of the best underground rap groups in history. Because even with their moderate amount of mainstream success, they are still underground. Their sound may be shifting following the addition of a live band a few years ago and as Slug himself inches closer to 40, but I’d rather a group mature and change than outright sell-out or jump on some dork squad trend. Anyway, here’s another good reason though, just in case you aren’t familiar…
This is like the least newsworthy blog posting in the history of irrelevant blogging, but as a newly-single guy in his late twenties who drinks way too much, I find myself relating to Slug’s words more now than even when I first fell under Atmosphere’s spell as a guy who just moved to Chicago in his early twenties and drank way too much.
Crabs! I’m up to my neck in work right now. And yes, this is kind of a hint about something I’m working on… don’t worry, you’ll be able to wait it out… if you hold your breath.
If you haven’t watched John Cardiel’s SOTY part in a while, you buggin’. And if you’ve never seen it in the first place, you really buggin’ hard. Like Starship Troopers level buggin’ up in this bitch.
Keep in mind this part is originally from 1992. 20 years ago, and if you saw this shit go down today you’d still be blown out of your pot leaf all-over-print socks.
Basically, it’s a succinct, and often breathtaking reminder of why John Cardiel is now recognized as a true god of skateboarding. And not some kind of demigod either, because we’ve got plenty of those too. But outside of Cardiel, there is a very short list of names that could be comfortably compared at the same level and I think almost all of them are “Mark Gonzales.”
I didn’t catch any of these videos Thrasher’s been putting up of their tour with Spitfire from the mag this month. But having a backlog of them to go through was a pretty good way to start my day. The section at the stair spot that the latter half of the clip resides in features some of the most insane skreet skateboarding I think I’ve ever seen. I’m serious. The level of talent on these motherfuckers is just absurd. If Ishod wasn’t so damn stylish, I’d swear he was a Terminator.
That weird, green snakey bowl complex they skate earlier on is pretty wacko, too. Who built that thing?! It’s total madness. The whole thing looks like a hallucination.
In other skateboarding video news, Polar put out an edit from their Bum Rush The Spot day at the BQE. Some pretty fucking heavy skateboarding went down, to say the least, especially if you know how hard all that shit actually is to skate.
One clip on the big quarter in the back… hah, go figure.
In these dark times - and I’m talking about my personal life, here, not like, the state of the dumb world or something - it’s important for me to keep myself busy. And so, I’ve been doing as any recently shattered human being would, and am foraging for irresponsible hobbies. Thankfully, it turns out balt salts weren’t for me, so I’ve moved on to a new mania…
Mole: Ratty! It isn’t. He hasn’t!
Rat: It is, and he has it: a new mania. Motor mania!
Please Mr. Toad, just drive, get us as far as far can be, get us away from tonight.
Big points to whoever gets that reference and doesn’t just think I’m some kind of emo. Although, if you do get the reference, then you’ll know I’m an emo. Damn it!
No, this is not some kind of dramatized “I’m shutting down the blog” type post. Because I’m… not shutting down the blog. I just moved, that’s all.
Anyway, I took a bunch of photos over the course of my kind-of-gutting last week in the once glorious Dedleg Brooklyn HQ. Man, apartments sure look strange right before you move out of them. Barren, skeletal versions of their former selves, you float through them like a ghost yourself. At least I did, but then again, I was stoned the whole time. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure if it all actually happened. Hey! Where am I?!
Uh, it’s okay… we’re okay. Moving on… uh, no pun intended. But that was a pretty good pun.
The kitchen corner didn’t even smell like late night cigarettes anymore at this point. That’s when I knew time was finally up.