After the revelry that accompanied the near sell-out of our last magazine (thank you free DVD, thank you new readers for accepting the not-so-subtle bribe), an inertia infected all aspects of the magazine. Gimlets, whisky sours, swizzles and sundowners beginning at lunch became the norm. Our muslim houseboy, Abdullah, was run off his feet with frivolous requests for pleasure and excitement. Money was squandered; neurons thrown to the lions.
Our contributors, safe on the distant American continent, however, had much different ideas. Unsolicited, we received a request from brilliant new American writer, Nathan Myers who, famous for his Elmore Leonard-style bursts of machine-gun prose, begged that we allow him to interview Jamie O’Brien for Stab.Why, yes, darling… hic…
Jamie Brisick, a favourite for many years, FedExed a package of photos and a thought piece from the North Shore. What do you think? he wrote. What do we think?The magazine’s empty! The editor’s have gone! Superb!Evan Slater, the editor of Surfing magazine, made the final of the Mavericks big-wave contest in February and sent us, at our prodding admittedly, a sweet piece on what it’s like to perform at such an event and nearly drown in the process.Bitching! How soon can you send a photo?Meanwhile, our international photographer and favourite of Taylor Steele, Dustin Humphrey, showered us in images from the Arab Republic of Egypt – that darling Middle Eastern country where the women stare provocatively through the slits of jet-black veils. Burqas are the new black! Eight pages!
The magazine is rounded out by a local hero (Bra Boy Jamie Gore aka Froggy who singlehandedly took on a mob bat-wielding Lebanese on the evening of the Cronulla riots), a stinging review on the men duking it out for the 2006 title (Fiji is surfing’s own Brokeback Mountain, are you sure?), Shane Dorian’s life in a cartoon and a contest for sub-human pygmies on our western shore.
Flip it around and it’s all about a new look called Punk Hillbilly as pioneered by Ozzie Wright and skater Dustin Dollin.
Cheap thrills for the reckless and feckless.