StrangeLove
TRANNY: act 1, part 1, by dave carnie
Sean Cliver
A few years ago I was approached to be the director of a documentary about the history of vert and transition skating. I was very excited because I started skating in the late '70s, was a vert skater in the '80s, and have championed transition skating ever since—if there’s anything I nerd-out on in skateboarding it’s the history of vert. I excitedly began prepping for the doc immediately and, as is my habit, I over-researched and took way too many notes, most of which I knew would never see the light of day. While my “extreme” research and development looks like a waste of time, I know this longwinded process often provides me with a richer, fuller background from which unusual connections arise (there’s nothing surprising in that because if you stare at a pile of trash long enough you’re going to connect with something, even if it is just trash). Unfortunately, after nearly a year of writing, writing, and more writing on the history of transition skating, the project was cancelled.
it is a new year… again. by dave carnie
Sean Cliver
I don’t celebrate the New Year. I don’t make resolutions or entertain ambitions about “renewal” or, “new beginnings” or, “dry January”—fuck off. To me it’s “just another day,” as the Oingo Boingo song goes. There’s really no difference between December 31 and January 1 except that we begin our arbitrary human calendar again. New Year’s Day could be any one of the 365 days we’ve decided make a year. If it were up to me, I would choose December 21, the Winter Solstice, to be New Year’s Day because something cosmic actually occurs on that day that does in fact signal renewal: our planet’s northern pole reaches its maximum tilt away from the sun making 12/21 the shortest day and longest night of the year. Thus the next day, 12/22, marks the rebirth of the sun and daylight hours grow longer thereafter. My mother always loved the Winter Solstice because, as she would say, “The days start getting longer again.” I rejoiced with her because that meant we could skate the ramp longer every day. Hooray.
the 2021 year end wood review
Sean Cliver
Huzzah! If I had a glass in my hand I'd surely huck it against the wall in a fantastic smash, because it's nigh closing time for 2021 and, well, we're not leaving. I mean, yes, we are leaving 2021—don't really have a choice in the linear sense of time—but the thing is we're still standing despite all the curveballs of the year. So yes, huh-fucking-zah indeed]. To celebrate the happy fact, let's take our annual look back at the wood that was in 2021.
breaking the law
Sean Cliver
No, I am not hell bent for leather. Nor am I screaming for vengeance. Instead I'm referring to a now surprisingly if not shockingly old maxim once held near and dear to the black hearts of the Big Brother magazine staff: Do not write about skateboarding. In other words, let the photos speak for the skating while the story deal with anything but (butt!), because our two main "competitors" of the '90s time, TransWorld and Thrasher, both already did the other in two polar opposite and occasionally baffling manners [1]—the former waxing poetic while the latter gnashed the gnar. So naturally we had to fill the void betwixt the seriousness of the two with nonsense, turds, and silly business. But today... fuck it, today I'm tossing that credo aside for a sentimental sap smear following an unexpected afternoon spent wandering around my old haunts in Madison, Wisconsin.
sent, volume 4, by dave carnie
Sean Cliver
Welcome to the latest edition of SENT where I present the ham-fisted highlights from the stupid emails that I sent last week (-ish)…