the insects that are not aliens surfing club

I HAD TOO MUCH TO DREAM LAST NIGHT

Seeking solace in in a haunted sea mansion on the deadly coast of Western Australia, the vault of the Insects That Are Not Aliens Surfing Club has finally bin uncovered. Returning fleetingly from Noosa, revealing what we already knew - in terms of functionally inappropriatre head-cocks and switchfoot turns borrowed from an age where they might have once served a purpose, the Insects are are a smear on the tomb of traditional Australian surfing; Keven Brennan revisionists for the lost generation . Emerging here from a weedy cave like fly larvae, for you!, to reclaim the mystic tyde of surf and garage notoriety started by a vapid vision of tasteless Midget Farrely appendage flings, carried on by Alex Bullpit, passed onto The Messiah (and under 18s west aussie champ) to again push the disparity between hype and talent in one foul swoop of zombified brainless bravado. A rotting sarcophagous of paraphenalia is spurting forth evidence of a once despised entity, TITAN ASC, who spooked this stormy ghost city of Perth in a rule of ghouls, possessed organs and uncontained board designs. Buzz! Fad and damn proud of it, the hack talents of this body snatching, ever morphing combo of stomach mouthed tossers created disquiet amongst the kiosks and cemetaries of the beach side death town in a humdrum drought of post style inertia by suiting themselves scantily in thrift store shorts and omitting the better third of there surfin' trunks. They are back. 3 boards. Two ideas (actually less). Always promising . Dead proof that it is better to surf badly well than well badly. Aghhhhhhhhhhhh! Exit stage 9.

ITS A NEW DAWN

The insect life is a damning portrayal of a groups disengagement with the rules of surfing, science and society in fervour of riding 67 style longboards, 68 style vee bottoms and 69 style spenceresque spoons (amongst other forgotten, functionally fulfilling equipment) while sporting soiled stubbies, rubber and moustaches (not so much on the sisters).

With their jazz addled philosophies on life, lust and loot, and scant regard for good taste, these delinquents surf in the kind of demented manner which has inspired indifference from the local thrusterology up and down the harsh, haunted coast of Western Australia and the sublime tropical slumber of Noosa. At least average, and usually god.

Built from nothing but high hopes and thin air, and fervant from too many viewings of The Hot Generation, Evolution and Sea of Joy - while listening to a mind melting amount of 60s garage punk and Las Vegas grind - there is no cure for the disease which is The Insects That Are Not Aliens Surfing Club.

Rest easy children, for tomorrow they may wake up dead.

BURIED AND DEAD? - ARISE!

There's something happening and things are not going to stay the same. EUPHORIA! Shed the veil of surfboard design disillusionmen. INSECT confronts forgotten fragments of late 60s non-history to negotiate a deal with the keepers of that fantasy; daring to display disgust with the oppressive construction of everyday, linear versions of surfings past and present to consider...what about?... Relax children for the truth is triumphant and speaks sofltly to all living things.

REJOYCE! The INSECT trust returns (slightly soiled) from Noosa with eyes wide open . The result? Two new designs. Aquatic reality vies with cosmic vogages to deliver personal discovery in the shape of the LOONY MOTH - a functional vee bottom in the 6 to 8 foot range. The ELECTRIC PRUNE SPOON is a moon-tailed, scoop-decked disc; 4 to 7 foot for Ted Spencer style associations with the jizz.

INSECT PRODUCTS - THE INSECT STICK

INSECT PRODUCTS - THE INSECT STICK

The INSECT surfboard, or ‘Insect Stick’, is a hand-shaped, traditional longboard informed by the best on-edge features of the past and present. Built to last using the toughest materials, and tested on the consistent, crystalline pefection of Noosa, Torquay and Margaret River, this vessel offers success for the hottest traditionalist, aspiring novice and returned senior alike over a range of conditions. The ‘Garage Series’ will deliver JOY in the face of the bleakest financial prospects – a beautifully basic, AFFORDABLE model.

INSECT SURFBOARD 1 - the insect stick GOURMET SERIES

INSECT SURFBOARD 1 - the insect stick GOURMET SERIES

The universe is permeated with the odour of insects - under negotiation with resin swilling Ian Chisholm, the INSECT STICK ressurrects late 60s Australian experimetation and Californian point break pointiness under one wild mushroom of unheard noserideability, trim, and on edge surfing. Ruddered by a Greenough rake, with concave atop the rear deck and a teardrop under the nose, the insect asks the question - what if?. It's is a bath-tailed ironing board, perfect for sandy town beachbreaks and limestone death cylinders on the zombie dwelling west coast of Australia, as well as east coast surf cities, Noosa points and mystical global out posts. Don't slip on that bananna peel. Available in mainly dank colours - soldier green, cardboard, or asbestos grey. No pinlines. No rocker. Single logo is stencilled on. Not for the faint headed, this dank coloured rocket will rise to the golden triangle like a Polly Waffle, providing you with sanctity for poised perching and on edge involvement, as you , yes you, surf to the untold insight of your unshackled brain (suzy, suzy creamcheese, this is the voice of your subconscious mind speaking suzy) - you in the fields of blue.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

LISTEN CLOSELY AND YOU CAN HEAR THE WORMS EATING AWAY AT THE OLD ORDER AS INSECTS FASHION A FAR OUT FIASCO SAFARI ON THE EAST COAST. STARTING IN BRISBANE AND TAKING IN CYCLONE CRAZED NOOSA; JUMPING ON THE JETSTREAM THROUGH THE CORRIDORS OF CRYSTALLINE PERFECTION TO SYDNEY VIA THE GREAT JOURNEY. HOPEFUL AND DOOMED - DON'T MISS A BEAT FRIGGIN' FREAKS!

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

REVOLUTION BLUE THE MESSIAH

INSECT GARAGE SERIES THE MESSIAH MODEL IS OUT FEATURING HEAVY 67 PLASTIC MACHINE STYLE CHAMFER (TO DRAW WATER INTO A DEEP BATH TAIL) AND HEAVY MOONTAIL. REVOLUTION BLUE ELECTRIC PRUNE!

Friday, January 23, 2009

THE JOK STIK

JOK BAHEN IS AN INSECT SATELLITE IN NOOSA AT THE MOMENT. WILL BE JOINED BY INSECT MOBILE IN LATE FEB - MARCH FOR FESTIVAL...BLAH. IN THE MOONTIME, THE JOK STIK IS READY TO GO CHECK IT OUT BROTHERS AND SISTERS BEFORE HE SOILS ITS SOILED LOOKING BROWN FINISH.

JOK IS EQAUL TO OR BETTER THAN ANY TRAD SURFER INTHE UNIVERSE IF HE CAN KEEP HIS GENIUS MIND ON THE TASK AT HAND...

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THE INCREDIBLE INSECT TIDE HAS SPREAD LIKE SPILT LATTE OVER BOOM CITY DECORE'

Sporting uniform bath-tail 67 style creepy sticks, the legion of insect surfers have swelled like dry focaccia in minty green tea. With slack-jawed sneers set to the sun, and a surfing style laced with discarded bogus head cocks and other shameful acts off over-stated stalling, these foul psych tinged, member hugging shrunken stubby wearing members of boom town fall out have drummed up enough local and Italian distain to proclaim stories of the forthcoming storm clouds gathering over the chosen city. Taking up residence in Noosa during the summer of 09, a Holden hearse hideout, the GOURMET SERIES gave a nudge in the direction of Johnson's secrets; suggesting, timing, falling, back and rising...completing the continuum. A recession, perhaps. But incisive surfing tools will deliver a curious blend of atmospheres - 67 or 09? its heaven sister - with the sweetest traditional sticks cloaking the very bleakest of sentiments. Affordable and less than fashionable - raw urban blues laced with fuzz guitar - the GARAGE SERIES will see you through for $1500 sea ash of trad blank, smokin' sanded pigment greenough-finned (moon tailed?) mind surfers.

Sweet copy! Dan! Eat coffee, etc.'s Latest Blog Entry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 'Tis a new age of reason into which this bloated corpse of a society must be dragged, but by who? Who among us hath not the inhibitions and reservations keeping the masses in a numb state of pacified appeasement and acceptance of the generalized utility of apathy? The very population by which thou art surrounded needs be in possession of said individual, and, with thee and myself included within the roster of possibilities, this person must come forth! I say unto thee, if thou art at attention, assuming thou art not myself, ariseth! Maketh thy mental wares available unto others! Forceth not thy ideas unto them, but do allow the facts to be available. Be this person in fact myself, I declare that I shall do that which is reasonable and prudent, in keeping with my policies of nonviolence and tolerance, to enlighten those to whom knowledge needs to be revealed. I shan't, however, for any reason, attempt to change the well-determined convictions of others, as the beliefs of the individual are theirs and only theirs, and other people should be allowed to believe that which they choose. Informational campaigns should categorically be against ignorance, and should NEVER be against different ideas. In general, the following can be assumed: Ignorance = bad; different ideas = tolerable. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ How might these revelations discourage, or even startle your friends and loved ones? And don't forget about your co-workers, and any strangers, businesspeople, or public servants with whom you may interact on this, the finest of days in recent memory!!!

UNCLE MERV PAZINS PALACE OF PERVERSION

Crazee, kid, craz-ee!

Innermost gives me a headache by the end, though, I must confess. More so Evolution - I recall the incomparable W.Lynch himself saying 30 years after the fact that it was largely unwatchable. True.

The shots of you in cups (as Evelyn Waugh would describe it) ... insane delirium. Entertaining.

The arrival of a 2nd junior 'sect (a P-sect, you might call him, a male of the species - Harrison - as in George, not Roach) has meant minimal briney and headdippin' time. So, still stuck on the 3 big steps rather than the 4 minors. This clearly requires work. Thinking that a new shred-sled might be the pass to extended piggy time ... is it the Insect stick? Or is it the Sea Pignar Biscuit Supreme? Oooh, heresy, the heresy!

SPIEL FROM THE PERIPHERY - ALEN 'THE HEAD' PAZIN

This is heartening. The TITANASC message continues to resonate among the legions of the unjazzed (with a deferential doff of the flat cap in the broader philosophical direction of Phil Edwards, of course; of course!). The likes of "jonno" and "crazydan" have much to offer the world (of amateur footy clubs) and it's life-affirming stuff to view their contributions to the TITANASC cause. "Sick car mate"; "yeah mate".

Still, it has started. A long, steady, rumbling roll through the consciousness of the great unwashed; will the half-formed cognitive impulses of members of the skeg-tradie class towards home theatre systems and Australian-flag boardshorts ultimately survive, alongside the 'roaches, come the great moral apocalypse? Perhaps naïve; I am a "glass half full" kinda guy, it's true.

I like hibiscus; its intoxicating, heady perfume gives me … well, pause.

Chizza has a potty mouth, by the way.

part of frrkout interview in loconut - www.loconut.com.au

So what's the TITANASC (the insects that are not alien surfing club) all about?

I started making stuff.
Beyond that, it's about heaps. I don't wanna freak anybody out or start sounding all White Gum Valley or anything, but it's got everything to do with my view on everything. As Kant says, objects of knowledge are exclusively subjective. That is, there are many versions of truth or reality. Foucault says that only limited versions of that truth are permitted in accordance with certain powers maintaining control. For example, in school you get bored to crap by listening to old versions of reality important to certain regimes of power, so in geography you still here about Collie coal mining cos it keeps the power of that industry, even though it is destructive (and boring). And in the hell town of Perth, which still feels and affects us like the swampy desert it was, it's hard to realise there are other choices besides Tuscan villas, silver prados and ss utes.
So in surfing, the same. The short board revolution was a great period of innovation and intersection with ideas from music and lsd coming together to create a new freedom in surf. I don't take any drugs, but the culture of that period is really interesting in the deconstructing of barriers, refusal of social contracts and, yeah, style. Then the corporations got interested. Miki Dora saw the whole damn thing coming - the loss of freedom of expression at the hands of commercial interests. So, there are many truths to surfing beyond what you see on the Cott General Store wall.
Myspace and blogs and stuff allow that freedom too, as well as the bringing together of people and ideas, which i reckon is the blue print for everything as provided by the behaviour of atoms. 'Titanasc' is about that and a few likeminded scaly kooks. Also it's the opposite of other Cott clubs (no hibiscus, no comps – you just gotta wear brown stubbies, and a moe particularly if you are a bloke)

So tell me about your car, I think it's 'a part of who you are', as such.

Sometimes I feel like I drive it to please the folks round here, like it's a cross I can hardly bare. Cos like everybody 'used to have one and drove across Australia in it' conversations and I'm just doing my thing, I don't really notice the car or want to be noticed. Like if you all died, I'd still drive it.