Modern advancements in technology have ceded many of our wildest fantasies. These days, no longer wondering what it would be like to flip endlessly through outer space, be the Batman or just fuck everything, leaves us with very few desires of which to imagine, bored and procrastinating. Even the 800-ish annual pilgrimage mostly-up Everest that recreates the full body euphoria of becoming a human ice cube is beginning to thaw. There are fewer and fewer virtual realities left to inhabit bar one which seems to gain in intensity year by year, as if by some cruel hoax; the Brisbane skatepark stone-cooker experience.
Yes, you too can realise your weirdest dreams of transforming into a slow-roasting chicken leg as your body temperature rises to degrees where it cooks from the inside out.
Last Friday for example saw many partaking in such an experience in a relaxed, sweaty arvo at Fairfield. There was a fairly good turnout of skaters throwing in a pre-session before the new MAHFIA video premmy at Jay’s Small Room which not all who shredded attended. I rocked up about 45 minutes early to see Pontus Alv’s new video mammoth I like it here inside my mind. Don’t wake me this time on the blanket projector screen and would proceed to watch that film for 300th time since last year. Once our host, and friend of Malaise, Indigo arrived we threw on Quit your day job.
Immediately copping beers and some kind of cracker snack in the face, we went on to enjoy a really solid video, along with Norm’s added narration. As far as crowdfunded film budgets go, most seem to take a lot and do very little. With QYDJ, creators Monique O’Toole and Erik Sandoval made the best with what they had and it turned out amazing. Only criticism was the far too short but sweet Lacey Baker part. However, seeing the first full-length part from Vanessa Torres since This is My Element in 2007 made me wish I was awake enough to have backed their campaign for a DVD.
We applauded, we chilled, and then the call came from over the picket fence me and Liav were up against, standing on cinema-luxury milk crates, “Who wants to come skate Brain Drain?!” And so we did.
Which is where the story should’ve ended. It seems like my penance for a lack of skating in 2016, and riding the same deck for an entire year, was that I roll my ankle on the smallest of all bonelesses off one of the DIY boobs. Norm has footage you aren’t allowed to see.
This is gonna take me out of action for a while. 😦