StrangeLove
a nightmare on del amo blvd.
Sean Cliver
The year was 1992—isn't it always?—and I'd just started working in the World Industries art department after getting the steel-toed boot from Powell-Peralta. I was fresh off the boat in Torrance, you could say, and not yet savvy to the internal affairs and politics at World, most of which stemmed from the still relatively fresh intake of the new kid on the block, Plan B.
a carnie christmas story; or, sean's slick soliloquy
Sean Cliver
Never before in the history of mankind has the magical holiday of Christmas been properly explained until now. But before getting to the obligatory promotional hand-off to Dave Carnie's latest cold cut creation, I'd first like to slide down a slick little wormhole and go back in time to the year of 1990—or was it 1991?—when Santa Cruz/NHS introduced the Everslick™ deck construction, which, in layman's terms, boiled down to a thin plastic sheet pressed onto the bottom of a board. This was right around the time when rails, the last of the plastic bastions from the '80s, were swiftly going the way of the dodo (unless you happened to be one company focused on the introduction of their years-in-the-making orange product), so it just made sliding sense, right?
the jed walters interview
Sean Cliver
Far be it from me not to write a dumb little intro, but I'll simply chalk it up to my former position on the Big Brother magazine staff where dumb little intros were de rigueur (fancy-ass French for "day rigor"). The long and the short of it is, though, that I was prepared to do a very dumb little interview with Jed—probably five-to-six silly questions of a Big Brother-ish nature at most—which would have been a real travesty, because we then would have never ended up with this incredibly intriguing interview conducted by none other than the master of skateboard lore himself, The Chrome Ball Incident, who graciously stepped in to field what I would have fumbled and dropped altogether.
what if… ?
Sean Cliver
A probable argument could be made that I’ve been trapped under ice since 1992. This isn’t to say I dwell in a nostalgic forest of the past and can’t see shit from shinola through the present day trees; 1992 just happens to be the joyous year in which I mentally embarked on an endless summer where I often forget that 26 years have since tripped the light fantastic. All idiotic poetics and developmental excuses aside, it’s also the year I started working alongside Marc McKee in the World Industries art trench.
a rambling word (or 2,958) on screen-printing
Sean Cliver
Since we are about to finally cease treading water in the Sea of Inertia, I may as well expound and expand upon the topic of screen-printing, seeing as it's a trumpet I perennially blow like a blue-in-the-face Israelite attempting to bring down the gates of Jericho.