son of sweet punk videos...

Dunno if I'd posted this one before, but yeah... the saints were something else.



crucifix from the target video.



Born Against Live set. awesome.
enjoy.

Long Live The Old Man...

Yes, yes, yes- there's something to be said for the woods and for beauty and peace and accepting one's place in the world around... but there are other forces at work in the world of man. This is what happens when you look into the palantir.



Hassan I Sabbah.


Burroughs Documentary from 1984.

FROST

Robert Frost is an easy dude to right off when you're young and hungry for experience, smirking at the books on your parent's shelf. As time goes by however, you catch up, suddenly all the poems about scoring heroin and being wasted and lonely seem kind of empty. Frost is a guy you gotta right off in order to eventually understand, you gotta see the emptiness and arbitrary experience in suffering for sufferings sake. It's really only then you can start to appreciate the folks who sought peace with themselves and the world around them. In the tradition of all the ancient Japanese and Chinese poets, he sees how much is reflected internally through an experience with the natural world, he gets past the duality until it's all one body, one memory. So in honor of all that and the approach of Autumn, here' my favorite Poem by Frost.


Birches

When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

Can I Live. Pt. 2 "Proliferation"

Like hippies seeking vibes, Christians seeking the souls of godless natives, or buccaneers seeking plunder, since the early days of "plan on wheels" skaters have roamed the lord's green pastures and Lucifer's dark alleys in search of skateable spots. Back in the days of "Red Dawn", fear of the communist hordes did not keep American skaters from slipping behind the iron curtain and shredding Latvian hillsides. Most recently a group of skaters snuck under the radar into Cuba and gave away 200+ boards to folks there who, were definitely suffering from a lack of equipment and on top of that, harassment by Cuban cops for engaging in an "activity of the enemy" (Mission Skatepossible) . And there it is, no room for skating either way, the gov frowns on it, the Superpower restricts the resources necessary to engage in it, but kids have been and still are skating anyway, just like everywhere in the world. Skating like great art, changes the perception of the observer and when perception is altered an internal shift often occurs as well. Skating (again like good art) can lead to the development of a fierce independent streak, a healthy disregard for authority, and a fine tuned bullshit detector.
There are fierce and ruthless forces currently at work to keep people separated and dependent on the minority that hold all the money and power. The tools of separation at their disposal are endless, ethnicity, religion, culture, history, all these can be exploited to keep people fighting and divided. Skating can lead not only to the questioning of this propaganda but also to the outright rejection of it by direct experience. Getting together and skating with others or just observation through mags and media, allows people to connect on a level deeper and more subjective then social and cultural prejudices and grievences.
The Dali Lama was onece asked what advice he could give on how to resolve the Israeli/Arab conflict. He responded "Throw more parties." Let people get together, relate to eachother as individuals hanging out, and peace will prosper. So, in honor of throwing more parties, and sessioning around the worlf, here are a number of links to groups using skateboarding to help impoverished youth, bring kids from conflict zones together, and just info on skate scenes all over this bouncing blue marble.

SKATEISTAN - Skateistan is one of the dopest nonprofits since Medecins San Fronteirs. The organization got its start when some Aussies working for a development organization in Kabul Afghanistan brought their boards. Skating around the abandoned Olympic pool (which under the Taliban had been a site for executions) they soon attracted large groups of Afghan kids, who in the world's second poorest country, broken from 30+ years of war, had little opportunity to play and be kids. What started as just getting kids together to skate, have fun and build confidence, has lead to the construction of the first Kabul skate park as well as an attached school. In order to earn skate time kids gotta attend the school. They bring together kids from all different ethnicity's (all of which have a shared history of conflict against each other) and teach both genders. This gives kids the opportunity to connect and play without all the baggage of cultural and social identities. Their site has tons of examples of all the awesome shit going on including a soon to be released documentary.

The Uganda Skateboard Union - There is a skate park in Uganda and a scene of inspired skaters surrounding it and this is their website. Currently I think their repairing and adding to the park while continuing to shred East Africa. Tons of photos and great posts available on the website.

Skate Arabia - A skater run blog breaking down the skate scene throughout the Middle East and North Africa. A wealth of information and cool photos/articles. This is a really well organized and run page and incredibly interesting. So here's what I propose, we fly into Rabat and work our way across North Africa by land skating everything until we hit Muscat, that my friends would be a real war on terrorism.

Skatenacion - Well run, slick page dealing with all things skating in Colombia (where I was told that if I rode my board down the street I'd immediately get it stolen). In Spanish but can be translated.

Skate Malaysia - All the things going down with Skating in Malaysia as well as info and links to skating in other countries in the region.

Sour (a documentary) "Sour" is a skate documentary about "nine skaters from Israel and Jordan jumping borders and cultural barriers to share a united passion for skating and life." It has been making the film circuit both in the states and abroad and is an incredible testament to the power of skating and its possibility as a tool for change. The creators of Sour were gracious enough to sit down for an interview with Resort to Cannibalism that will be posted soon. Till then check out this site.

The Bedouins.org The Bedouins is a site dedicated to using art and skateboarding to advocate for peace. It is run by the creators of "Sour" and gives updates and information on various events related to the documentary or put on by the organization. They are looking for galleries, etc, interested in participating. Check em out.

Bridge To Skate - Like Skateistan "Bridge to Skate is a humanitarian organization that uses skateboarding and play to aid in the creation of life skills, promotion of health, fostering of peace, and the education of cultural differences internationally." It is currently operating in Honduras with hopes to spread to other countries

All these sites have links to a ton of other awesome information and are worth exploring if your interested. Also check out The Gaza Surf Club for a group doing similar things but with surfing in the fucking Gaza strip. Also stay tuned to R2C for an interview I did with the makers of the Sour documentary.

Can I Live. Pt. 1

"What my dead friends give me is the power to say, 'it's six thirty in the morning dude, whom I skating for? I'm Skating for all those who can't. And why am I doing it? Because the motherfuck I can."

My childhood was blessed. I grew up surrounded by mountains and miles of undeveloped wilderness. Anytime that wasn't taken from me was spent in the woods, climbing, running, swimming and camping. With no real limits to chip away at you except for the big ones, existing internally and in the natural world; loosley translated: "either you can do it or you can't". As we grew older the consequences of "you can't" increased, so that finding out "you can't" do something could often result in "you're gonna get fucked up." But that's how it is with young men, we weren't completely reckless but we were desperate to test our limits and find out how far we could push them.

I liked skating before even trying it. I liked the idea of moving fast through the streets and towns of the civilized world, pushing and shredding like some creature from the wilderness let loose to reek havoc and tear through the villages. The civilized world and its pressures were almost too intense, and in a way shit like punk rock and skating became the tools for beating back the forces that jockey for control. Maybe that sounds a little cliche, but most true statements do. It wasn't all struggle and strife though, skating around with my best friend after school , getting crunk on caffeine and and hanging out.

The seeds planted during these early experiences came to full bloom when I moved to the city. I was miserable and felt pretty isolated even though I had some friends to keep my head above water. After my roommate copped a few complete, barely used boards from the Salvation Army, skating evolved from something I did sometimes as a teenager to a revelation. Like being set loose in the woods as a kid, skating changed how I interacted with my environment, an errand was an excuse for motion, to push and keep pushing and see if you make it to point "b" in one piece.

I spent time moving around between the states, the city, and Vermont. I also got out of America whenever time and resources allowed, travelling for many of the same reasons that compelled me into the woods, or onto a board, a broad curiosity that functioned with a force close to the heaviest of addictions.

Wherever I'd end up, traveling or living, I'd see the landscape with a skater's eye and feel the desire to push down every street and walkway, known and unknown. In Aguas Calientes Ecuador I chased some locals three blocks to let me ride their shattered, old school, shark fin, deck. It creaked under my sneakers like colonial floorboards but it fed the need for a little while. By the time we reached Cuenca I was infested with the need for a board and so we bought a cheap quality complete, which was the best you could get at the time. In order to get a decent deck kids in countries like Ecuador had to order them online or through the only existing skate shop in the capital.

It was cheap with about the corniest graphics ever, but we didn't cut it any slack and it stood up to the beating. Strapped onto my rucksack we traveled into the country, staying at a guest house that sat above a tiny pueblo in the Andean foothills. Bonding with some traveling surfers we spent hours bombing the scarred road that ran down the hill into the center of down, quickly discovering that bailing often meant a sketchy combination of open wounds and donkey shit. We'd skate all afternoon, playing with the village kids who would ride the board like a toboggan down the lower part of the hill; heel dragging in flip flops to a stop, and then collapsing into a pile of giggles. The kids would materialize outta the surrounding landscape of jungle and subsistence farms, running down the jagged road for as long as they could keep up. The "crack!" of slapping plastic flip flops and the calls of slower siblings, a joyous avalanche rushing the narrow riverbed and resting on the outskirts of town. Through the kids we got invited to meet the families and spent a few afternoons sharing a snack and getting glimpse of lives composed primarily of hard work love, and more work.

Continuing that way, with the board strapped to the rucksack, skating old colonial plazas, avoiding the specters of restless conquistadors and the loafers of elderly observers. In Cuzco we bombed Andean roadways of Incan and Spanish construction, riding in the rain gutters when the cobblestone got too raw. In Cuzco, Arequipa, wherever the board came out we met little shoeshine street kids, metal heads, artists, and others. The board held out, the cops were nice, and I rode beneath the southern cross in the chill mountain air. Eventually I gave the board to the daughters of the woman who managed the hotel we were staying in; with hopes they'd grow up to be bad ass little independent ladies, or at least enjoy pushing each other around the lobby while their mom worked all day.

Six Months later I was riding through the streets of Hamburg and then Denmark on a much nicer board I'd bought at a Roma flea market in Germany for 15 Euros. I'd skate to the coffee shop in the morning and then push down sidewalks and winding old world streets for hours with the walkman on.

Riding through all these unknown places dripping with history, headphones blaring some Clash, wheels clicking on the marble, granite, tar, 'crete, cobblestone and dirt. The board was a power item, it was sudden escape, it was mathematical formula for possibility, a gateway to instinct in planned environments. All the bullshit, the modern curses and traps that lack the creativity of ancient times, the quick dart to the jugular, it all falls away, under the urethane, in the cold night air, skating the pier as the city lights come under the gray evening sky of early spring. Like all the summer nights, through the city's grid work, long after midnight, just empty ghosts of traffic jams and drunks too gone to make it home, swallowed by an ocean of street.

How Buildings Learn.

Stewart Brand seems like a pretty interesting fellow. He's a writer and thinker dealing a lot with environmental sustainability and the question of time in regard to the earth and humankind. I'll probably post some of his lectures to The Long Now Foundation at some point which deal with the urbanization of the world and ways we might sustain the planet and it's people through the next 10,000 years, but today I'm going to keep it a bit more loose and show you a few of the more lighthearted videos he made about architcture.

The videos below are what introduced me to Stewart Brand. They comprise his series "How Buildings Learn" and mostly deal with how time and people wear and evolve the spaces we live in. I know it sounds dry, but these are really interesting and if you have a bit of time you should check them out... I mean, if you're reading this you probably have some manner of relationship with man made structures... anyway...
enjoy.



Part One.


Part Two.


Part Three.


Part Four.


Part Five.


Part Six.

Play It Fasterrr...

I've been listening to a bit of ministry lately and revisited the Pailhead ep. (which was ministry with Ian MacKaye.) I was always curious as to how that ep. came about and with a little searching found this...


"Ian MacKaye: I met Al at a studio in London in 1986 or so. He told me that he was getting into “hardcore,” which struck me as odd considering that Ministry, up to that point, was a college dance music band. It was also at a time when I was in the band Embrace, which was moving away from what many people considered “hardcore” at the time. He asked me if I wanted to sing on one of the tracks he was working on (he recorded a lot of music, and as he finished each piece he would decide what project-name he would release it under). At first, I didn’t think there was a chance I would do it, but when he played me the track (it would become “I Will Refuse”), I was pretty knocked out by it. I actually wrote the lyrics in an hour or two and did the vocals that night. It was partly inspired by the struggle with the major label that had signed Ministry at the time (Warner Bros.?), but like almost all of my songs spread out to cover a lot of different things by the time I was done writing. I didn’t really know in what form this song would be released, or if it would be released for that matter, but I liked what we came up with. A month or two later, Al asked me to come to Chicago to record a second song that would be used as a B-side to “I Will Refuse.” So I went out there and wrote and recorded “No Bunny” with him and Ion (Paul) Barker from Ministry and revolting Cocks, and a guy named Eric (whose last name I can’t remember at the moment) who played drums for Naked Raygun. I came up with the name Pailhead for the project and it was decided that it would be released with no name or pictures or information. This is not because we were ashamed to be connected to the music, or each other, but because it seemed cooler to do it that way. A year or so later, I went back to Chicago for a second e.p., and eventually all six songs we recorded were released on a single CD. I haven’t spoken with Al for many years, but I really enjoyed working with him and found him to be a sweet and brilliant studio producer."

Read the full interview here. (ps. it is pretty sweet.)

Resort To Cannibalism Mix Two.

Summertime for me is usually about staying up ridiculously late... This mix is for just that...

Resort To Cannibalism Mix Two.

1. Nico - Frozen Warnings
2. Eno, Mobius and Roedelius - The Belldog
3. The Clash - Ghetto Defendant
4. J.J. Burnell - Euroman
5. Dome - Ritual View
6. Talking Heads - Seen And Not Seen
7. Gun Club - Promise Me
8. the Knife - The Captain
9. DAF - Ich Und Die Wirklichkeit
10. Circle - Understanding New Age
11. Glass Candy - I Always Say Yes
12. Swans - Blood Promise
13. Einsturzende Neubauten - Youme & Meyou
14. the Homosexuals - Hearts In Exile
15. New Order - Mesh
16. Wire - A Mutual Friend
17. the Pop Group - She Is Beyond Good And Evil
18. Brian Eno - Spider And I

enjoy.