Brian Krans's Blog, page 22

Blader Digest: 12 Days 'Til Judgment

Oh, the excitement of pain, fire, brimstone, and judgment is coming. I'm just a bundle of tingle right now.

In case you haven't heard, some of those who stare at the sky and hear a voice coming back say judgment is upon us. That day happens to be May, 21, 2011.

These same people are so good at interpreting the Bible and applying mathimatical equations that they've deduced God created the Earth in 11,013 B.C. Not around that year, but exactly that year. They're probably also the people that think dinosaurs were Jesus ponies.

Anyway, there's no point in getting to that because the signs point to the date of the impending judgment:

So, as long as we're all goners soon, let's not waste any more time and get to it.

But what? What's there to get to?

What really matters now? What's so important that it must be tended to when were one pay period away from being choked by the right hand of God?

Well, maybe we could spend our time being tired. The best way to do that, is to work non-stop. Just keep piling it on. It's easiest when you don't like what you do and feel degraded by what you earn doing it.

Then again, maybe you're one of the lucky people who saw the other signs and went with it.

Okay, fine, making a living doing what you love won't tire you out enough to make you not want to wake up and do it again.

But if what you're doing isn't making you happy, you should knock that shit off, pronto! Really, why waste your precious time? There's only so much left!

Maybe we could spend our remaining few days wasting our energy examining the tiniest details of everything only to search for cracks in logic, principle, or performance.

For instance, why does this anarchist bookstore have security gates?

Or maybe would could do that in the comments sections of…

Fuck!!! That sounds really dumb, doesn't it?

So what should we do then?

C'mon, meow, hurry it up. Think of something. The world is ending soon, so that hypothetical question has become real: what would you do if the world was ending?

Maybe keep doing stuff that's made us happy since we were kids? It makes sense because back then, everything seemed simpler, and more carefree. Maybe that's the key to making our last two weeks all the better.

It can't be that bad if super mega pimps do it too…

Or maybe you could finally enact those sinister deeds you've always wanted to commit…

While you're thinking about what you'd do, I'll tell you my plans: I'd tell those I love how much I love them. I'd tell people I don't like that I'm sorry I didn't love them enough. I'd put my skates on, cruise the city streets at dawn, and hit up my favorite spots before the city woke up. I'd eat a burrito the size of my head. Then, I'd snag my lady, a bag of drugs, and sit on the beach, and watch the show. If waiting got too boring, I'd swim out into the ocean and try to fistfight a shark.

It'd be a nice day. It really would.

I guess that's what everyone should do—everything they've wanted to do but not the courage to do it.

Yeah, sure, it might be a bit confusing, maybe even scary, but it'll be worth it. Trust me on this. Dying sucks, and we all have to do it sooner or later, but what better way to enjoy the apocalypse than a head free of worries and a heart filled with joy.

That'd be nice, too.

So it looks like we're all going to be really busy doing stuff we always wanted to do, or stuff we've always loved doing because let's face it, we're all fucking doomed soon.

Instead, let's just get the homies together, skate a little, drink a little, smoke a little, and chill the fuck out.

another jsf bbq from casey bagozzi on Vimeo.

If for some reason unbeknownst to all of us that the judgment and rapture doesn't come, those of us that quit everything might be a wee shit out of luck. Then again, those that didn't quit, those that kept going, pushing their way through the much and shit in search of something greater will be just fine.

Well, if the world doesn't end, at least we'll have a really strong foundation to make the second half of our lives happy, free from regret, and filled with tons of cool shit.

See you all at the gates of hell (or not).

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

P.S. — Since all of your cold, hard cash is going to be useless in a few weeks, you might as well pre-order my next book, Freeze Tag on the Highway while there is still free shipping. If the world actually does end, I'll give you a full refund.

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: Actually About Blading

Hey! Did you guys hear about the fixie event that went down on Saturday here in lovely San Francisco? No? Well it was on Rollernews, so that means it was obviously the biggest fucking deal ever.

Anyway, Arlo Eisenberg took the opportunity to showcase his art on the ramps.

And another old-school rollerblader, Azikiwee Anderson helped organize the event.

And that makes great sense because he did help set up the first IMYTA event there at the gates of the X-Games. So, naturally, if you're going to have a fixie gear event, what better place than the spot where you united bladers across the world in a competition series that was entirely owned by skaters.

But Azik used to be huge in blading other than IMYTA. He owned Able, he ran Empire Distribution, and was part of D-Structure, a shop here in San Francisco that carried skates, wheels, frames, etc. It was a place where bladers could get jobs, find a couch to crash on, or party the fuck out.

D-Structure used to be a nice home for bladers back in the day. Hell, a friend of mine told me as I was about to vacation here before I called it my home, "If you're looking to blade, just go into D-Structure. Tons of skaters are always there."

Well, that's just some back-in-the-day shit now. Like, way back in the day.

I can't think of anything blading related going on at D-Structure since the Apple RIP SF premiere in 2009. There's skateboards, spray paint, and other shit, but Azik recently got rid of all the blading back stock. You want gear in the Bay? Go to AMall. But, hey, we've been doing that for a while now.

So, some bladers in the area wanted to check out the  fixie event to investigate its "iceness." Basically, we wanted to hop the fence, skate the ramps, and see what happened. Wanna know what happened? Nothing. We didn't do it because unlike blade events, there was ton of security, assloads of fences, and all sorts of other shit that said we'd just lose no matter how hard we tried.When Red Bull pulls up with their hordes of free-can toting ladies, they don't fuck around with the 5-0 presence.

Did a single blader that was there get to do anything but look longingly at the beautiful hubba ledges down the stairs that was went ungrinded by hipsters on two wheels? It's a rhetorical question.

But still, looking around Saturday had its perks.

Take for example the table at the D-Structure booth:

Yes, some of those are old Able shirts. Apparently, they're still around because no one wants them

No better metaphorical image sums up the day that when some of the above Able shirts were tossed into the crowd of bikers for product toss. Basically, the D-Structure people felt that since the shirts were going unsold at the shop, they'd be better off thrown out.

So now Azik is doing fixie stuff because, you know, it's the new fad since blading isn't making any money. As a business man, that makes good sense. As a strong founding father in the sport, that's bullshit. I know I'm not alone.

Now I know Azik owns all that old Able shit and he can do what he wants with it, but there's something strange about the whole event. The question was: where was Azik?

Arlo was there, even if the announcers were dropping his name over the PA system for no reason whatsoever. Don't know if they were trying to mock him, but it sure as fuck felt like it.

Really though, where was Azik? Some of us—including the never short-tongued Tommy Boy—wanted to show Azik a pair of rollerblades and see if he remembered what they looked like. But where—oh where!—was he on the day of the event he helped put together?

Oh, yeah, now I remember where Azik was: doing play-by-play for the Asian X-Games!

So, is Azik still in rollerblading?

Does the fixie event even mean shit to him?

Does he still want to be part of a sport that he also seems not want to be a part of?

But fuck that shit, just for one second. The most important part of the Asian X-Games wasn't the part where someone was saying what others were doing, but rather the people doing the shit…

Anyway, back to Azik. He's not the first person to do something else besides skating:

Or…

Fuck, JSF-fam and blader Kell McKenzie took second in the races during Saturday's fixie event. (Forgot to mention that before.) But you don't see him  announcing international blading comps.

Sorry, Azik, but you can't throw out rollerblading gear to bikers while also trying to be the voice of it. You just can't. I know you did, but that's some serious bullshit. We'd boycott your stuff, but we already do.

We can't stop you from accepting a free trip to Shanghai, but when you Shanghai rollerblading like you did, don't expect any kind of love, respect, or good words from any of us.

Do what you want, as you obviously have no problem doing it now, no matter how double-sided and cross-eyed it is.

Later.

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

P.S. — Buy my book when it comes out. I don't get paid for this shit, so you might as well buy something to roll blunts on.

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: Give It Away, Now

If there's one limited resource we all have, it's time. We can always grow more trees and shit like that, but we can never get our time back.

Never. I don't give a shit if you have a Delorian with a Mr. Fusion on the back. That shit won't work. You're not getting any younger and you never will. Deal with it.

If you've never thought about your mortality, you should now. This isn't some Jesus-based schpiel or anything, but perhaps a wake-up call to what the fuck you're doing with your limited time on this shared space we call Earth.

Think about it: you'll end up working eight or more hours a day, with some extra time devoted to getting to and from work. Then, you'll spend time cleaning your apartment, washing your clothes, scrubbing your butt, and all sorts of other life maintenance. Then you gotta eat. Some days, you'll get to sleep. That doesn't even include time you'll invest in the time for others, when it be the lady in your life or a child you spawned. (And if you have a kid and don't take care of it, fuck yourself with a broken skate frame and die.)

All that shit eats into your time, leaving you with only a fraction devoted to things you really like to do, unless, of course, you're blessed with a job you love, stuck with a time-saving eating disorder, or entirely welcome an OCD lifestyle dedicated to cleanliness.

This life-on-a-deadline shit fucking sucks and you know it. Go ahead and try to live forever, you Twilight-loving freak. The rest of us will know our time here will run out.

I didn't think I'd ever write this, but fuck the Rolling Stones: time is not on your side.

The key is what you'll do with the free hours of your life not dedicated to prolonging it…

You could keep it all to yourself. You could only chase your interests, do what you want, and completely neglect the world around you. No one would blame you for that, but not many people will love you for it. That is unless they share the exact same interests as you and don't mind you don't give a fuck about them.

Yup, you'll be forever alone and no one wants to die that way.

As long as you're thinking about how someday you will die, you might as well think about if you want to leave anything worthwhile behind. If you're the type that wants to leave the planet as nothing but a smoldering, rotate ball of shit, good for you. You have goals. That's awesome.

Painting by Eleanor Gilpatrick, New York, U.S.A.

However, if you're looking to leave a positive impact on the world you inhabit, think about your time and how much of it you can give away. No, I'm serious.

There are those artists like Van Gogh that suffered through their lives penniless and tortured, only to be revered as a great long after their death. While it may sound cool, that's a bullshit way to live. You gotta enjoy yourself, but you have to think about what you'll leave behind. Think about the word "legacy."

Okay, not that Legacy, but at least we're getting somewhere.

The likelihood of any of us saving the world is slim, but not impossible. However, to do that you'd have to sacrifice everything you have, risk imprisonment, and basically turn into a mother fucking super hero. That could be fun, too.

Your time here is finite. Make you actions infinite.

So, just say "fuck it" and give up some of your shit.

Give your time, money you spend your time earning, or better yet, do what you normally get paid to do for free.

Becoming talented in anything—design, photography, sucking dick, etc.—takes time. Yes, that limited resource of it. Remember back when you started doing it and how long you had to labor to get better. It was work, but it was fun work.

Share the fucking love, man! Non-profit groups doing great things can save a shitload of money if you volunteer time doing anything. You do video? Guess what? Lots of places need video work? Same with photos, writing, etc.

Take a look at the Surfrider Foundation. It's dudes doing what they love while working hard to protect the places they do it.

Do you realize how quickly your skate crew could get shit done? Get your buddies together, go down down to a Habitat for Humanity site and fuck shit up, blader style. You know how to build ramps, so why not help build a mother-fucking house? I bet you could put a house together faster than the Amish can raise a barn. Those dudes blade, too.

If you need a reason to do it, volunteer and let everyone know you blade. If each one of us did that for a few hours a month, no one would say shit about bladers, except for "Rollerbladers? Good fucking dudes."

Sick of all the trash and shit at your local skate park? Spend one hour a week with a broom and dust pan to clean that shit up. You might not be able to design a new website for the YMCA, but fuck if you don't know how to stoop down and pick garbage up. While your local municipality might have coughed up a few million or so to build the park, I doubt they factored in enough money to keep that thing as spotless as you'd like. So, quit your bitching and get your ass to work improving it.

Tracy White's old headquarters at the Boys & Girls Club in SoCal used to be the place to drop gear you no longer needed so it could go onto the feet of people looking to start blading. However, despite that's all long gone now, there are still plenty of ways to keep your place clear of all the skate parts gathering dust.

If you're not chucking your old stuff to the groms—recycling the good way—then you're a dick.

Donate & Skate is a great example of turning people's used gear into gold. People who have old shit give it away to people who are happy to get any kind of shit. Shit's tight, right? Yeah, well, your used wheels, frames, skates and whatever miss your attention. Just like Buzz and the gang in Toy Story 3, they want a new home.

If even that seems too hard, gather up your old clothes and donate them.

Nothing makes me prouder to be a rollerblader in San Francisco than seeing all these homeless guys decked out in the clothes skaters here donated to them. (However, that is a sad statement that is about the current monetary situation in rollerblading if you think about it.)

If rollerbladers can all get their asses to Detroit or Germany in February—two of the most God-awful frozen tundras known to modernized society—just think of all the good we could do together if we gave up some of our free time.

No matter how limited that time may be.

Even if you're unwilling to give, at least quick fucking stealing from rollerbladers!

Fuck it, just skate live better.

Blade or die,
— Brian Krans

P.S. —

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: Taking Chances

Ah, yes, this funny thing called life. It's amazing, isn't it?

Think of all what we have. Really, just stop for a minute. Last week, I wrote about that crazy little thing called love. It was fun to write because I didn't waste any unnecessary time thinking about bad things, except for, you know, war, genocide, famine, and birth defects. Most of us are lucky enough to not have those plastered in the streets where we live, so we're all smiling idiots, right?

Yeah, I didn't think so.

And that's sad considering how fortunate we are.

That's why we all need to regularly stop what we're doing. We need to pull ourselves out of the repetitive cycle we can get caught up in and actively think, "What am I doing?" Really, you have to do it yourself because unfortunately there aren't enough of us around wired correctly that we can focus solely on the better parts of life.

We all know that the most unfortunate thing about happiness is that it takes a lot of work and it never sticks around as much as we'd like.

That's why it's so important to not only search for happiness, but we must design it. We—the creatures with the thumbs, big brains, and seemingly endless capabilities—have to play God in our own lives to make an existence dedicated to creating happiness.

For someone like me, whose conscious and subconscious mind will travel to first to darkness instead of light, it's extremely important. Like, extremely.

It's easy to focus on negativity. Not just because it appears to be everywhere, but it's almost easier to furrow a brow than crack a smile. It's easier because it leaves us vulnerable. When you smile, you broadcast happiness. And because so many of us are miserable, we'll quickly attempt to attack someone's happiness to make them as miserable as we can make ourselves.

I say take that chance.

Take the risk of being vulnerable. It's the only way you'll be open enough to experience the best parts of everything.

We all, after all, are united by chanced. Not just the way that all of our actions shape our destinies, how our daily interactions make a larger impact on others' lives, or stuff like that. I'm talking about taking a chance of someday ending up in a wheelchair.

The blading you make is defined by the chances you take.  If you never took the chance to overcome your fear, you'd never put on skates in the first place. If you never took a chance, you would have nothing.

Your best days skating should not be measured by the easy tricks you landed, but the number of times you picked yourself off the ground trying the impossible.

A.J. said it better than I could…

If there's any reoccurring thought you should have in your head, it's not "what if…" but "Fuck it."

Fuck it all.

Fuck the fear of failure. Fuck the details. Fuck the paperwork. Fuck it all.

Do it for the love, the joy, the horrific lows, and the orgasmic highs. Do it for creating a name so honored, revered and loved that they'll build statues in your likeness in cities named after you.

Do it so people take notice, but don't give a fuck what they're saying.

Get out there and make people notice.

Don't fill your head every minute thinking of what we're missing, what could be better, or what we need. You do that all of the time and you'll go crazy with regret, worry, anxiety, and all sorts of other stuff that will give you a troubling stomachache.

Do what you love.

Fact.

Take fucking chances.

Quit your boring-ass, low-paying job. Travel the globe. Punch that dude in the face. Ask that chick out.

Sure, it's better to love and lost than better to never have loved at all, but pain, anguish, heartache, and other things from stupid, ill-conceived actions make for great stories, fantastic art, and a head full of wisdom.

Or, if you're like the guys at IRollNY, you can do some good, like help promote, Teen Power, a non-profit agency that's doing some good work.

But, with wisdom, is the knowledge to not get too carried away and being safe when it's most important.

Have fun, blade hard, but don't forget to stop and notice.

Stop and take a look at yourself.

If you're unhappy, start changing it. There is no such thing as…

Talking about change is something left to people with crowds in front of them. Since I'm here, by myself, I'm going to stop tapping on these stupid fucking keys and go out and do something to make myself happy.

I'm off to skate.

In honor of the birthday of one of the wisest men to ever smile on this planet, I'll end this diatribe with this…

If we're all as smart as we think we are, we'll heed that advice, design a life around happiness, forget what isn't important, move on from the pain, and become bold and brave enough to ensure that fear, destruction, and death has no place in our lives.

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

P.S. — Remember, my second book, Freeze Tag on the Highway, is coming out in July. I'd appreciate any support on this because, if you can't tell, writing is one of the many things that makes me happy.

My first book, A Constant Suicide, is all about unhappiness, if you like that sort of thing.

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: On Love

If you're reading this, you're human.

Congratulations on that. Think of every animal that is jealous of you. Sure, it'd be super bad ass to be a bear or an eagle, or something, but every slug, pigeon, rat, and low-level organism would rather be human.

Sure, being human has some drawbacks.

There's war…

There's genocide…

There's famine…

There are birth defects due to nuclear disasters…

There are so many bad things out there that make you wonder what's the point in moving on. Really, what is the point of it all? If we were as smart as we thought we all really were, we'd end it all. While sometimes there seems to be nothing good about what we've done with ourselves as a species, something comes up and reminds us why it's all worthwhile.

I know the feeling and I'm sure you do, too. It comes with a certain amount of difficulty to admit, unless it's absolutely easy in the beginning, which it never is…

Love.That's right, love.

Think about it… Why else exist?

Do you really want to exist for hate, greed, conceit, murder, mayhem, death, destruction, and violence?

Yeah, sure, in your free time, and in fun ways, but not in literal means.

Let's all agree on one thing: we exist to love. To love a person, an idea, an ideal, or a deity, it makes no difference. We love.

There are all sorts of different types of love.

There's the kind where you give your entire life to something…

There's the kind you'd do anything to save…

There's the kind you can't live without…

And last, but not least, there is romantic love…

Wait, that's not it. Here we go…

Yeah, love rules, no matter what kind it is.

And if you're reading this, you are not only human, but you're lucky enough to have something worth loving. I'm guessing it's rollerblading. No matter how society, trespassing laws, or skateboarders view it, you love it.

A love untested is a love unfounded. A love that doesn't come with sacrifice is a love I don't wish on my greatest of foes. Love, you see, is defined by the amount of love you put into it.

The more you have to lose, the more you should risk. (Ask a bookie.)

The more you fall, the more you learn to stand up. (Ask yourself.)

If it hurts at times, it's probably good for you (Ask your immune system.)

Your mom would be hotter today if she had an abortion. (Ask your dad.)

That, my loving friends, is true love. It's exploring every fault, every little thing that could easily shake you to your core, leaving you a crying, drooling shell of a human being, and still not changing your view point.

Sure there will be trials. There will be ignorant words spewed…

But you can make amends.

There will be pain…

But you will heal.

There will be scars, whether you can see them or not…

And you'll collect more of the.

But there will be triumph…

And there will be a rising Phoenix from the ashes we left behind.

Really, when there's love, we all win. You don't have to love everything, but you don't have to hate something different to protect what you love.

Sadly, love means being hurt. It means making mistakes. It means pain. It means wondering if you're worthy of being loved, if what you've decided to do is the right thing, if what you've been doing will pay off in the end…

Sometimes, love is wrong.

But the more you love, the smarter it becomes.

Sooner or later, the right love will come around.

It will seem perfect. It will seem fair. That's when something will go wrong.

You'll get upset. There might be some blood. There may be a scar, but as you're sitting there, with the pain, the fear, the misunderstanding of the thing you love, there will be that moment.

There will be that moment where you collect your head, lick your wounds, and come to realize how lucky you are: you are in love.

Sure, we can look at other animals that share this planet and think we see love, but humans are the ones that can inescapably describe everything we're feeling.

Yeah, we have millions of ways of expressing how we feel, even if that there are some universal facial expressions that convey the same meaning in every culture: anger, sadness, disgust, surprise, fear, and joy. See, no matter who you are, if you're pissed, emo, scared, or happy, you look the same as the dude next to you.

So, to feel different, we create all this extra bullshit. If love is a simple thing, talking about it only complicates it more.

Our abundance of communication is our downfall.

We talk too much.

I know I do.

If I were smart—which I will never claim to be—I'd keep my mouth shut. Hell, if we were as intelligent as other species, we'd just do what Nature told us to and go about our business. We'd flash our feathers, let what we want to love come to us, get our lovin' on, and part, hoping we'll leave something behind that's worth remembering.

But we're not so lucky. As I said before, being human comes with its downfalls. That would be love, too.

Love, unfortunately, is a downer just as much as its and upper. (Which gives it the same chemical compound as cocaine, I think.)

Love can become obsession.

Obsession will destroy you.

Only if you let it.

Love will tear us apart, but it can also mend us together.

I say if we're lucky enough to be human, and lucky enough to love something, we should all treat that thing we love with care. That doesn't mean attacking every little fine detail. That doesn't mean letting foolish emotions get in the way. That doesn't mean abandoning it when it needs us most.

It's not an easy thing, but c'mon, it's love.

That, my friends, is the point of all of this.

Love, for whatever, is worth defending. It's worth the humiliation, trouble, and deep torture that can twist your spine in eight directions. It makes everything so desirably simple, yet so confoundingly complex.

It's dirty, raw, and beautiful.

The blood we'll spill for it will never equate to the amount that has given us life.

Just love.

Blade or Die Love and live,
— Brian Krans

P.S. — I wrote another book. You should read it when it's out.

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: Nothing To See Here

Y

eah, I know I've been gone for a while more often than not. I'd like to say my time has been well spent, but for those of you looking for your weekly batch of nonsensical babble that is this column, you don't want to hear about it.

Basically, I've been thinking. I know it's a scary thought, but like Murph says…

Quite frankly, I often don't see the purpose of this column.

There's really no real point in rehashing every edit and every little tidbit of news in the blading community like some glorified commentator or blogger. Sure, there's lots of cool shit out there all of the time, and some really weird and interesting personalities in the blading community, but one fucked up edit or someone streaming bullshit on a webpage (including yours truly) doesn't change anything ever.

Then again, sometimes it's entertaining. Other times, it's not.

But there are two certain, inalienable facts about blading:

People will always blade.
You can never change someone's opinion of what you do.

(Thanks to Johnny Sakkis.)

Blading, like everything else is life, is something made possible by a motivated group of individuals acting collectively and individually. This is great as it serves the greater good, and it serves it well.

But when we start dissecting their every little move, it only creates more frustration and unwanted anxiety.

We tend to overcomplicate things only to give it more significance or to make the cracks bigger so it can crumble. Both are dangerous.

Anything—blading, work, relationships, events from a blacked-out Friday—can become completely unenjoyable when put under a microscope and viewed only by its tiniest details. Yeah, sure, we want people doing that kind of shit for cancer research, but being dedicated to the details will only stress you out.

Simplicity, my friends, is the key to personal freedom.

We have never been and will never be a truly free people, no matter where on the globe we live. We need money to survive and most of us will work the majority of our lives so we can do what we want. We have to pay taxes out of that money to support governments that rarely hold the interest of the people in mind. Every day we are alive people we don't know will make rules that we have to follow, whether we agree with them or not. And should we break those rules, there will be dire circumstances because of it.

I say fuck all that and search for whatever you want, so long as you don't have to hurt others to get it.

We'll spend our entire lives searching for the things that make us happy, and I think that's the point of life.

Some of us lucky sons of bitches will find it sooner and easier than others.

We should relish in the simple goodness of life. Out of all the semen in our fathers' balls, we were the best one of the group. Then we made it out of the birth canal. Win x 2.

Whatever happens after that is a matter of resources, circumstance, and out ability to tell adversity to fuck off. Wasting time on every little detail of things that bother us will only bring us down further.

We should be amazingly thankful not just for what we've been given, but the sweet, delicious spoils that come into our lives. Yeah, there will be lots of scary moments of uncertainty, but we know that because we've accepted every challenge before us and risen above them nothing can frighten us.

Then again, no matter what we do or think we know, some things will never make any sense.

Dogboarding from DANIELS on Vimeo.

Or we can want it all, sweat the small stuff, and discover the devil in the details. All you have to give to get all that is your sanity.

And that will kill you.

You can't enjoy your life when you're dead.

Blade or Die,

— Brian Krans

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: Lost in the Desert

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Now that the BCSD hangover and detox phase is finally over, it's time to get back to business.

And by business, I mean drooling nonsensical bullshit…

The Island Country

Skating has always been kind of a big deal in Asia. They view it a bit differently than in the States, even back in the day…

Now that our homies in Japan have been rocked hardcore by the largest earthquake to ever strike there, you have to be mindful of what's going on.

Shit got all sorts of fucked up over there, Katrina-style. It was so big, it was the kind of thing that would have wiped out even a few thousand dinosaurs.

Do what you can for Japan. Donate whatever is needed.

Maybe Donate & Skate can put something together for the bladers out there. Sure, rollerblades sound pretty fucking stupid when there's all that destruction, but giving someone a chance to put on a pair of skates again is one step closer to normalcy. After that kind of event, anything resembling normal is godsend.

Our buddy Soichiro Kanashima has been in the States since BCSD. He says his family and friends in Okinawa are safe.That's a good thing considering the earthquake and tsunami that hit the country was powerful enough to CHANGE THE FUCKING AXIS OF THE EARTH!!!

With that kind of good news occupying his heart, The Magician went right back to work on a project that's no longer any kind of secret.

That's right kiddies, if you enjoyed Valo 4Life, you should be totes stoked knowing the Valo team is done with their "vacation" of sorts and is back in front of the lens filming for the latest in the Valo team videos.

Which is a good thing considering 4Life is still kicking ass in both DVD, BluRay, and iTunes sales.

So before Soichiro goes home to his forever-changed island home, he's putting in some mad work on the streets of California filming for #V, release date unknown.

That means it's time to brush off the hi-def cameras, throw on your Valos, and start stacking clips to submit if, and when, it becomes that time.

Broscoe Broscow Broskow

It seems spelling Alex Broskow has always been a serious problem. Even since baby-faced Alex was taking diggers in ditches, people just couldn't fathom a correct spelling.

Then again, they called him an "extreme skateboarder," so let's not get our panties too bundled up over some letters. Then again, it seems to be a pattern.  I mean, c'mon kids, he's one of the biggest names in the sport, and has been for about a decade, so let's try a little harder next time.

'Cause we all know Broskow is going hard…

Rollernews, and their fancy custom graphics, seem to get it right.

Blade Blog

What is this thing? What is this beautiful mess of a mash-up before me?

I will confess before this week I knew nothing of Blade Blog. Like all mistakes we make it life, it can be rectified with education, reflection, and moving on.

So, yeah, here's a good batch of irrelevant old skate footage slapped together like some kind of wet dream by Sean Cullen and Jordan Dale…

Oh, the sweet confusion and desperation in my brain.

It's as if I'm lost in a world where my thoughts bounce inside my head, like I'm incapable of talking to anyone but myself.

I am but a lost man know, off somewhere in a desert of oblivion and confusion.

I have visions of Damien Wilson, a veritable Jesus of sorts.

He has spoken to me. He said he too has been lost, but now he has been found.

He shall lead us all back into the limelight…

He shall guide us through this journey back to civilization like his family has done for others…

Celebrity Endorsements

Now that is appears that no celebrity's career — whether they've actually done anything of note or not — is really over thanks to dozens of retarded celebrity spin off shows, there's this.

You want to see celebrities dance? Okay.

You want to see them in rehab? Okay.

You want to see them figure skate? Oh shit, we've got that too!

Oh, yes, there is a celebrity figure skating show? Is it like the Celebrity Death Match between Tanya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan?

Yeah, you wish.

Nope, it's like Dancing with the Stars, but you know, on ice with knives on their feet. But how is this relevant to anything blading related you say?

Well, if MC Hammer can skateboard…

Then Vanilla Ice can skate…like figure skate…

And since Vanilla Ice will be on ice with knives on his feet, he might as well put some on his chest…

Yup, that's Ice in a Gost shirt. Allegedly.

Owner Arlo Eisenberg wasn't so sure the photos e-mailed to him were genuine. As he said on the Gost blog, "Whatever the case, I am not sure if Vanilla Ice wearing GOST Brand on 'Dancing Skating with the Stars' in the UK means that we have finally arrived or if it means something closer to the opposite of that."

Either way, it's better than the gay cowboy shirt he's wearing for the promo shots.

Then again, sparkles and sequins seem to be his thing anyway…

Ice, baby. Ice.

Canadian Micro-Commentary

"It took rollerblading for me to realize I was doing nothing."

"…but then it got too commercial."

No, we're not talking about people jumping off the pro skate wagon out of philosophical purity. That, my friends, is the former Canadian sketch comedy show, Kids in the Hall.

"…then it came back, echoing, 'I'm rollerblading, I'm rollerblading, I'm roller-blading'…"

Oh, Kids in the Hall, you know what's going on. You know what speaks in our hearts. You know our trials, hardships, and diversity. You know we strive for something different other than what's given to us…

You know we've faced so much, some of which has been brought on by unscrupulous members of our ilk.

No, Kids in the Hall, you remind us to never let that stop. You teach us fortitude in the eye of adversity. You remind us that courage and strength may be lost currency, but it still has value.

Thank you. Thank you so much for the honor bestowed upon us once again.

We won't stop talking about rollerblading because we know that others are jealous and feel like they are missing out.

Or some shit like that.

Remember kids: "Each day you rollerblade is your Valentine's Day-yaaaay!"

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

P.S. — Here's a rollerblading parrot.

Special thanks to the Reddit community for supplying all the good shit.

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: We Were Out There

They say the greatest journeys start with a single step. But little do many of them know that the first steps are normally under drug-i or alcohol-induced circumstances followed by these fateful words: "Hey, watch this!"

We have created a culture around that. That's the basic elements of what we do—we alter our perceptions and the world around us.

Some have a very clear vision of what that is and how it should be.

We take the laws of physics and open-hand slap them like the mothers that birthed us into this sick, twisted existence. We contort and dance and frolick along to the confines of gravity, the biggest hindrance of humans leaping over tall buildings like Superman himself.

No, while others sit around and see a world only defined by an alternative reality, we see the alternative reality we've created for ourselves. They think they see the same things as us, but only we know the difference between seeing and doing.

We're all fucking freaks. We'd like to travel back in time and laugh at Sir Issac Newton and shove that dumb apple up his ass right before we fishbrain his spine and fuck his mother in the butt.

Fuck, some of us are so crazy we decide to have fun by vacationing in frozen Midwest cities where even steel-encased crime fighters get about as much respect as Rodney Dangerfield.

But we don't ask for statues of bronze symbolizing our infamy for our service.

Fuck no, damn it!

We are simple creatures. We only long for a weekend full of cheap beer in stands…

Head injuries…

And illicitly-laced cranberry vodkas shared with men with two first names…

It's not that we're not too afraid to throw caution to the wind, it's that we're too hungover and bruised and poorly-fed that when we break wind, we need to offer the world its own caution because most of them are too stupid to know what a good time really means.

Fuck, some of us are burly caped beasts flip-flopping and flap-flipping off the god damned rooftops over our heads and into traffic like they're not absolutely bat-shit crazy.

But it's not their fault. No sir, these poor suckers are bastard children of misfortune and fate. They've been singled out to be creatures of myth and lore, not regular beer-chugging buddies like the rest of us.

They will cry bloody fucking murder into the night, whether it ruins them or not. They'll see rain not as mere inclement weather but as a sign from God that He's crying over our inability to follow his rules.

"Fuck no! No way! Not today!" they yell and scream like banshees with yeast infections.

They seek either enlightenment or a body count that would make John Wayne Gacy shrivel in fear. The problem is, they don't know the difference and would never take a second to figure it out.

That, unfortunately, doesn't always end the best for all of us. Sometimes the drugs are too strong, the wounds are too deep, and our vision is clouded from some force, whether it be enlightenment or arrogance.

The difference is hard to tell without an eight ball of coke and a hooker to shit on. Sometimes it's too dark out there and hard to find your way.

No matter the sound that is made or the voices that are heard or where they come from or whether it's just in our heads, there's something to be said about expression and mindset and feelings and emotion and happiness.

Some of us unfortunate fucks will never find it because we're too busy licking our own balls and calling it hot sex.

Sarah Palin.

But fuck the haters and love the lovers, god damn it!

We're here and alive and connected and aware. We're lost, but those ten sheets of blotter acid and high grad MDMA laced with Adderall will keep the shiny things shiny until Pony Boy realizes that everything gold will stay until we say so.

The only problem is that no gold is strong enough to withstand a thunderous femur-busting sledgehammer full of French fury.

But no matter which crazy fuck finds their way to the top the fastest, there will always be those who disagree.

Is it about style? Is it about finesse? Is it about a certain jena se qua?

Or, is the hatred for a 90-year-old depiction of the future that wasn't accurate enough that those of us who remember those ill-fated promises are so bitter in our jaded and scarred hearts that forgiveness is no possible for we have been scorned like lovers promised so much so soon but were tossed aside long before the ejaculate dried?

Could be.

Yes, we were promised rocket roller skates.

Yes, we're still bitter because they were not delivered.

Still, we charge on.

We charge.

And charge and charge.

We charge so hard that when we document how hard we charge that those of us who did all that documenting of charg!ng, that we drink a boatload of Jameson, say a few words, thank those who have become our family, throw down the mic, and yell, "Start the fucking movie!"

Well, my friends and enemies, that did happen and the charg!ng that was charged was charged full of charg!ng.

Charg!ng.

It fucking charged.

And the next day, some people went to church.

See, some us find what we are looking for in spirituality.

Some of us are trying to find our way.

Some of us charge.

Some of us straight don't give a fuck.

Either way, we out here.

We used to be out there, but we out here now.

You should come over.

We have cookies.

And acid.

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: 'Bout to Be Bitter Cold

If you're like me and live in an area where a rain of week causes widespread depression and illness—which is immediately cured with a week of sunshine and 50-degree weather—then a four-day venture back to the Midwest better be for something spectacular.

And I'm not talking about the Testicle Festival spectacular. I'm talking about Bitter Cold Showdown XI—a weekend of drunken blading madness that only a city as no-bullshit hard as Detroit could handle properly.

If you're sick of me writing about BCSD, then you've obviously never been. If that's true, you are a sad, sad person who is missing out on the best party/comp/drama fest/time of the year. I am not alone in the least here…

Really, there are about 250 skaters registered for three divisions in a comp that spans two days. There's someone from nearly every continent, but yet again Antarctica is the bastard-child holdout.

There's really no telling who is going to take it this year. This isn't a career-based comp to determine the champion of the world, but I don't know a single blader that would mind having a BCSD sledgehammer hanging up in his or her room.

The last two years at Modern Skate & Surf, it was Montre and Haffey.

The tides could go the way with the premature-champ hoisting crowd and give it to this young man…

Besides the comp, the hotel-destroying nightlife, the kick ass tradeshow, and all of the best bladers in America vying for top spot, well, fuck you. If you need any more than just one reason, then fuck you.

Fine, fuck it.You want a reason? Here's one, fattie…

At least it will be something a bit different than days of Little Caesars pizza, 7-Eleven hot dogs, and Dunkin Donuts.

But hey, even if you're just a TV-watching scumbag, there's always a good reason for you to drag your lazy stoner ass off the couch, besides the fact that Michigan is in fact a medicinal marijuana state. That would be, ah yes, TV!!!

Yes kids, all those professional filmers (and not just the ones whose names you already know) with huge fucking booms and shit were there for a reason.

So fucking sad that blading isn't in the X-Games? Well, BCSD daddy Daniel Kinney has been busting his ass all year to put together a completely professional production to get blading on TV. And this isn't some kind of blading in a Saks Fifth Avenue ad bullshit. This is the blader-run deal where skating is out there as it should be. There's no fancy gimmicks or twists or any of that crap.

It's blading. It's raw, yet polished. It's pretty, yet dirty. It's wholesome, yet completely bad for you. It's your illness and your cure.

I've seen it. It's fucking tight.

The best part? It's narrated by people who know blading: Arlo Eisenberg and Matt Mickey (who I promise to get that owed beer to this year). It's none of that clueless Mark Shays bleached hair bullshit.

Don't care about that? Fine, fuck you again.

Maybe you're just a gear head. Maybe you just want the goods on the blading gear. That's why you can't miss the tradeshow.

Wanna see the new Shima Manufacturing boots? Wanna pet the Valo Lights? Want to stock up on wheels at discount prices? Want to get gear without paying taxes or shipping? Ship your ass there and get shit before you can get it anywhere else. You know, shit like this…

If you still haven't found a reason to go to Bitter Cold, then you fucking suck. Please, please  never come to this site.

However, if you have some excuse like you used up all your vacation days to help with the revolution in Egypt, or that so happens to be the weekend you're donating your kidney to the Dalai Lama, that's fine. I can understand that.

If you're still looking to keep up with what's good at the comp and the surrounding festivities, then go ahead and follow:

@BCSD_News on Twitter.

I'll be doing my best to keep everyone informed on the goings on of the weekend, JSF-style. More importantly, I'll be keeping tabs on the tricks you'll be looking for in the upcoming edits, the products you'll be buying on your regular order from your local skate shop, and what people will be talking about on the message boards for weeks to come.

If you're going to Bittercold, or you're at least going to be talking about it on Twitter, use this hashtag and let's see if we can get that baby up on one of the top trending topics for the weekend:

#BCSD
Foo Fighters & Blading

Thanks to Joey McGarry for the heads up on this beauty.

It turns out the Foo Fighters decided to use blading in their latest video, White Limo.

Guess what image of blading it is? Oh yeah…

And what does a rollerblader have to do with a white limo? Oh, geeze, you guys are smart…

But, hey, don't feel bad for the guy. He gets picked up in the limo, parties hard, and ends up being bassist Nate Mendel, so things aren't totally for shame.

Some parting thoughts

So, after Mr. McGarry sent me the link, we went through quite a written exchange about blading, where it's going, where its roots derive from,  how greater society views it, skateboading, skiing, snowboarding and more. Anyway, this was part of the exchange, and Mr. McGarry liked it, so I thought I would share.

"…the technicality in all sports is mostly lost on people. Most don't know the difference between a kick flip and a shove it because the movements are too fast. The same goes for rollerblading.

Sure, the spins and such to grinds are all great for wowing crowds, but I've always been a style guy. To me, the best skaters slap a trick down like they don't have a doubt they were going to land it and then just own the bitch the whole way down. That's one of Haffey's strengths (amongst others).

It's all this kind of stuff where it is this whole 'we' and 'what the sport needs' kind of bullshit. No sport is united in one seamless vision, nor should it be. The people that stand out are the people that make the sport their own. That's why you and your crew are so important to skating.

That's why the Valo team has a different style than the Xsjado team that's different than the Razors team that's different from the Nimh team. Remz, well, they seem to have a bit of everything in there and that's awesome.

Of course there's always going to be similarities between sports. Skiers and snowboarders go down mountains and jump up in the air and grind rails. Skateboarders, bikers, and bladers share the same concrete, grind the same obstacles, and all jump in the air.

But, bladers are finding their niche. We're skating things others can't, we're going faster, we're spinning more, and our lines contain tons more tricks. We're finding our identity, but it's not in skate parks, but in the streets. It's not going out just to film clips, but in those daily treks finding spots everywhere we can find them.

Skating, like any fringe sport, is better off if people are confused by it. I'm sure there are too many people who 'know' about skateboarding because they've seen it on TV or in ads or in any other place where people are using the sports image to further their own agenda.

Blading, no matter what it is or isn't, is ours and that fucking rules. I blade through the city all of the time and get people gawking at my skates. I'm skitching buses and can hear tourists and other people going to work. Some say good stuff, others say bad things. Either way, we're not like them. When they see me flying down the city streets at 8 a.m. doing 40 mph behind a bus, they think I'm crazy. I know I'm just on my way to work.

I pass skateboarders on the sidewalk and I pass bikers all of the time. I smile because my chosen lifestyle is more versatile than theirs. If others can't see it, it is their loss."

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

Share on Facebook

Blader Digest: Who Do You Skate For?

Man, what a fucking week. Let's just skip through all the cutsie bullshit and get right to it.

Murda Kills Pro

In case you haven't heard, Mike 'Murda' Johnson is done with professional rollerblading. Done. Over.

It all started with a simple Facebook status update.

Now, of course, this was going to be a big deal because as we're all aware, Murda's been a Razor's pro for quite some time. Sure, he didn't have a section in Game Theory, but he did have the sickest true fish ever captured on film.

Actually, we haven't been seeing much of him lately.

Oh, and there's good reason for that.

Anyway, so VX/Street Artist's Adam Johnson had to put Murda's status up on his Tumblr. That got some people talking, especially the Be-Mag message board. No one can blame that kind of information to raise some eyebrows  because you have the pro of one company waiting to put together his set-up.

Then again, he was just skating Razors at the Razor's house in Vinny Minton's recent Razor's Swag edit.

Considering Razors axed Don Bambrick seeming for less (or more, I'm not sure who's to judge outside the Razor's owners), we're all sure riding a pair of Valos—and telling people about it—is a fireable offense for sure. And no one would blame them for it.

So, Murda decided to set the record straight on what was really going on:

And as we all know, he's not the first person to call it quits from getting paid to blade. It's happened many times before from lots of skaters. Hell, go watch a video that's five years old and some of those dudes don't even skate any more.

That's fine. Life moves on. We all grow up.

But, since AJ had to stoke the fires on all of this, I'll let him have the last word out:

And that's that. I really hope we still get to see some clips from Murda in the future because he's one skater that has such style and confidence in his skating.

Truth III section? That'd be fucking sick.

Winterclash!!!

Be-Mag killed it this week with up-to-date coverage of Winterclash. If you're really too impatient to go over there and look everything they posted, here are the quick results:

1. Dominik Wagner

2. Roman Abrate

3. Brian Aragon

The Europeans kept their grasp on Winterclash, but always-a-top-finisher/American/former world champ Brian Aragon kept the pressure on them.

It's pointless to even try to slap anything down about Winterclash.

For photos and edits and more, head over to Be-Mag. They own that shit.

Shima, the new Nimh

Last week, we all watched the clock tick down on what was going on at www.shimamanufacturing.com. What we got was a very simple, yet clear message. Brian Shima said all that needed to be said without saying anything. They unraveled some of the HTML 5 shit on this:

Yup, all your favorite skaters from Nimh—Brian Shima, Montre Livingston, Jon Bolino, and Joey Chase—have drawn the proverbial line in the sand and gone out on their own.

Word is on the street that Nimh had been experiencing some inner troubles for a long time. While the announcement is

And that message was all good and fine for anyone what was going to be happening to such an awesome array of talent, but what about the skates? People who ride those skates seem to have a passionate and devout following.

People want to know about their gear!!!

People love gear!!!

What the hell is going on?!?!

Oh. Very good then. Winterclash was the place to be at.

I guess if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

Shima Manufacturing is the new Nimh. Doesn't look like much has changed outside a skin for Montre's new skate.

If you want to know more or share your opinion of them over on the Be-Mag message board.

Good, good.

Want another long-time blading legend holding the latest model of the skating brand he owns?

Boooooooooooooooom!

The long-await Valo Lights!

If you're in the market for a new pair of digs, it seems like the time to join the buyer's market is nigh!

Anyway, that's it for now.

Since it's Valentine's Day, I'd like to extend some blading love to everyone.

See you at Bitter Cold!

Blade or Die,
— Brian Krans

Share on Facebook