Monday, September 26, 2011

Fucking for the Sake of Fucking

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There were no alternate worlds- only the same one in which a quadrillion souls lived and where some would somehow try to make sense of it all and yet never make sense of it.



The fact that creation even existed seemed improbable to Jay and that fact never ceased to blow his mind.



There was still room for many realities though, and everybody had theirs.



Christian Hosoi could make his groupies ride in the bed of his truck while he let his dog sit shot gun on the way to Vegas (that really did happen).



Prodigal Hosoi could still take away from skateboarding, could pioneer Christian Action Sports Media.



An insect gets crushed senselessly and the world still allowed Holmes to be on permanent vacation in which he would tour and still be able to go on and on and on and on about his perceptions of reality.



Jennifer Hosoi would wait for Christian to get out of jail, and yet Heather still had the wandering eye when she was around Jay.



When Jay would jack off, he thought about Heather. In his fantasies he sometimes allowed himself to wear a condom, because condoms kinda turned Jay on. If anything, condoms denounced the utility of sex and affirmed sex for the sake of sex, fucking for the sake of fucking.



And other times when Jay jacked off to Heather, he allowed himself to sometimes not wear a condom- his fantasy included coming inside her and resting his body on her with the knowledge/satisfaction that he may have gotten her pregnant. These were the only times he allowed himself/was able to/wanted to make imaginary love to anyone.



The Surf Expo was a world of fluxed chaos- it wasn’t like Dante’s Hell by having fixed, set, stationary tiers of disorder. The varying degrees could be anywhere and everywhere and one wasn’t afforded the luxury of knowing what kind of suffering to expect.



Jay arrived in front of the Supreme booth and didn’t want to go in. He could see little Gio all serious, runnin shit. Jay could see that little tinge of pleasure that little Gio accidentally exposed, despite little Gio trying to be skateboarding’s all serious and no fun Richard Serra type niggah.



The unaccountability Supreme’s logo afforded them. The futura bold italic over a little red flag made them seem like/ give off the impression that Supreme was a progressive tote bag company from Sweden or a company that made modular modernist designer shoes for children. Supreme’s minimalism is indeed a lie and it allowed them to get away with much. They could get away with elevating working class brands (Haynes, Levi’s) by putting their logo on an unseen part of the garment and then selling it at exorbitant prices. All the illusion of order that that little tag logo projected and let them get away with. Somehow it could sop up the trashiness of the porno model in their ads, it could legitimize a half baked idea/after thought of featuring Kermit the Frog in their ads, it could justify them promoting and elevating an over hyped photographer artiste Terry Richardson to that of a role of false Shaman, it could make the Wu Tang clan seem like they were onto something again, could make themselves seem cutting edge by picking the generically obvious choice of Lady Gaga.



Supreme could justify little Jav not being a waste, could justify an unjustified carte blanche to the hipness that a sea of affluent Japanese kids clung to like a life raft.



The false restraint and slickness was a façade little Gio hid behind- a revolution of there not actually being revolution, although we all desperately needed one. It made skateboarding elitist without actually backing it up with sophisticated culture. Little Gio exploiting being at the right place at the right time, a modern update to Malcom McLaren. The virtues that the post hip hop landscape extolled were as dead as that of punk rock.











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Houston, Texas
Be kind, because everyone you'll ever meet is fighting a hard battle.