note surfboards: the messiah.

note surfboards: the messiah.: "jamming his insect stick on a perth beachie.."

note surfboards: belinda baggs x note

note surfboards: belinda baggs x note: "belinda feeling out one of my logs a few moths ago.... i just shaped her a strange 9'2' tree device. thanks to adam kobayashi for the pho..."

Is everybody in? The resurrection is about to begin.

hobo meets the insects that are not aliens surfing club

A man on an edge suburb beach appeared to me ranting like a he'd gone mad - apparently the breeze had penetrated his ear holes and eventually his mind - rekindling fears from desperate days spent in panel-van-craziness in the desert on the nullabor plain - and it reminded me of a dream i had about Russel Hughes surfing upon a strange peice of floating death valley earth - speaking at speed of Keven Brennan and how he had secured the saint's board - and he was speaking other strange ideas about surfing clubs and instructing on the art of logs and i would have been sure the salt had corroded his neurons and surely i would have concluded he was unsane if he had not then produced the head.

head

A man on an edge suburb beach appeared to me ranting like a he'd gone mad - apparently the breeze had penetrated his ear holes and eventually his mind - rekindling fears from desperate days in panels van craziness in the desert on the nullabor plain - speaking at speed of keven brennan and how he had secured the saint's board - and i would have been sure the salt had corroded his neurons and he was speaking other strange ideas about surfing clubs and instructing on the art of logs and surely i would have concluded he was unsane. if he had not the produced the head

The Australian Surfing Resurrection

Ladies and gentlemen and Saturday's children - get up with Bobby Limb - Bobby Brown raw and alive - The Australian Surfing Resurrection erodes the wretched myth about surfing being said since 66 - a sad giant black diamond heaving under the bloody beach - ARISE! - the ghost of Keven Brennan appears on the shore - no longer sleeping - bursting with the joy and anticipation of what is to come...

the lime spders come alive

FRI 10/12 - COOLANGATTA HOTEL SAT 11/12 - STEP INN (Bris)

alex bulpit understands

alex bulpit is like nat young segment in endless summer. white stubbies. dainty, almost feminine movements, cynical. moffats region. hot generation child of the moon

weird scenes inside the goldmine

Boom town Western Australia! Perth. Countless job seekers continue to voyage across the deserts from the east coast cities of people, and from abroad, globally, like ants, moths to a mine pit, insects. Like a stream of bats they come for the fat fruits of a mineral and resources boom which has provided this alien town with sanctuary from an otherwise complete world economic recession. That this is the site of a shift in surfing consciousness is perhaps ironic. Never-the-less, a change has been represented here. A movement toward raw, unabated, individualised surfing; separate from the demands of any mode. Total freedom, gauged not by proficiency, but pure, timeless joy, has been attained in the city of sprinklers; the desert town that brought us breakthrough rockers like the Scientists, the Hoodu Gurus, and Bonn Scott.

head cocks

climb the wall that crawls. take your time. head cock. back to the source. driving that vee bottom against all odds into unheard involvement; amongst it now for pure joy. tubes? yes please...

 just then black rain fell gently

the oracle formation film for the australian surf resurrection

the australian surf resurrection captures the rise and rise again of the wild, untamed spirtit of australian surfing

the film provides a take on whats really going on in the backstreets, hidden coves and uncontained minds of surfing despite the mad regime of commerce which has otherwise curdled freedom into conformity

as a medium to show the truth about introverts, individuals and others doing their own thing and feeling free, the producers are open to any unattached surfers exhibiting their own style and statement

the darkness has passed over and a new dawn has begun

 

the australian surf resurrection documents the delivearance of surfing from the cruel bite of commercialisation which has been tightening its grip since the 1960s, with a raw, reckesss texture and psychedelic garage soundtrack

featuring both celebrated and unheard surfers from around the world on all sorts of craft in variable to perfect waves

HURRICANE FIGHTER PLANE: this is the one

HURRICANE FIGHTER PLANE: this is the one

are you gonna be there?

i had too much to dream last night

it may seem like i'm coming on strong, but this summer will deliver a vee bottom revival as reported to me through the red telephone in kind of whispering, just a dream from yesterday, coloured circles making their way around. queitly at first, but with increasing fidelity, mumurs from places, meddling with midlengths in california, noosa and a ragged pounding from coolangatta. rigmaroll curdling toward lift-off in january 2011. a paradigm shift started in 67, realised. all gods children gonna have there freedom

vee day. the vee bottom revival, noosa, summer 2011. are you gonna be there? do you understand the secrets of space and time? 

THE ORACLE FORMATION

The oracle formation is an easy mechanism for independent, wild or otherwise unrestrained surfers/artists to promote their creations without the mad insane complex which

generally runs the industry

 

freedom from magabusiness

 

an undisturbed flow from artist to practioner

 

COMING SOON FREEKS!

VEE DAY - UNDERSTANDING THE SECRETS OF SPACE AND TIME

Bob tripn' balls and pulling out a prototype with some mild vee in it. Insect announces the dee day revival. Brothers and sisters. Do you understand?

strange voices from the edgy, inner grid roads of the boom town. brother richard

Brother,
An old blurred photo ...surfer with classic arms in the air throws a nice wake up demonstrating high speed whilst gliding across a rough and stormy hallucination bay wall...this is the time and it will never be the same again.
Were tops now !

THE VEE BOTTOM REVIVAL

Acid rain on witherted skin, acid tongue and a crazy grin. This is the summer of vee bottom joy. Refined. Edgy. The cricket bat is gone, but the potential for embryonic involvement, nestled in the bossom of your own mystery and memory, yet very present, remains. Its written in the Oracle this will happen again.. and soon. Its very important.

LACHAN LECKIE RECEIVES A VISION AND PROCEEDS TO SHED LIGHT UPON THE VEE BOTTOM REVIVAL

A Coolangatta castaway, this man-child of the moon was raised in innocence, bowling his hoop after church on a Sunday, frolicking in the fields of Cobaki with his talking fluke. Then he started running with the fast set. Knost and his slippery-handed henchmen. He heard the call for surfing of a type which follows only the associations thrown up by the mind; an on-edge style with no discipline other than the rhythms of untamed nervous impulses, undisturbed flow, simultaneously grasping the conscious and unconscious aspects of the experience. Developing a distain for sensible surfcraft and the illusory singular truth regarding surfing as forged by the mad insane complex in general, Lachlan obsessed over the woolly mammoth; a space/time vessel of considerable functionality, a mid-length vee bottom stubby with zero hang-ups...

LACHAN LECKIE GETS READY FOR THE FORTHCOMING SUMMER 2010/11 VEE BOTTOM REVIVAL

Sand-tripper stubbies - the shortest short in the nation ladies and gentlemen. No compromise. They don't just look good, they're functional.

THE AUSTRALIAN SURF RESURRECTION

Ladies and gentlemen and children of the insect, hot-doggers, kooks, rubbernecks, pork-choppers, cellar dwellars, swamp inhabitants sharpies and others; allow me to lay down the following news. This is to announce the death of the thinnest regime of truth which has dominated the art of surfing since the early epochs, from 1966 until yesterday morning at about 8:13 am, whereupon a think tank to do with a new style of on-edge surfing took place on the shores of Western Australia, Australia. No longer constrained by the mad insane complex of commerciality and sanitation which has reigned down upon the freedom and joy of what would otherwise be free thinking individuals, a contingent of surfers opened their minds to new dimensions of pure surf, direct from the id, portraying the limitlessness of the art as much as themselves; forsaking the demands of rule books and time itself, of suburban mind-locked defeatism. Lachlan Leckie of Coolangatta, New South Wales. Parrish Watts, Nooosa Heads, Queensland. Kent Turkich and Jock Bahen, locals but gypsies. As the sea turned to gold, the wind subsided, these boys really turned on. A style of surfing never seen in these parts. Growing awareness of what was at hand. Of the fragments, distant moments, thoughts, realities...coming together like atoms. A consolidated movement. A head-cock in the direction of Midget, a hint of Russel Hughes, gestures taken from the breadth of the glossary but improvised, unshackled, and generally in spite of mediocrity, homogeneity. If you go there. To Australia. Do be aware that a revolution of the self, of the spirit, is happening on those sunny shores, every very bit as much as an Australian Surf Resurrection. Kent Turkich

RESULTS FOR THE 13TH ANNUAL OLD MAL WHALEBONE CLASSIC - THE ORACLE CONTINGENT

headcocks - 1st

pretty pointless midgett farrelly arm gestures - 1st

lamely doing nothing but cutting a perfect comment on the horizon - 1st

THE 2010 WHALEBONE OLD MAL CLASSIC - INSECT AND ORACLE CONTINGENT BOOM TOWN CONFUSION

am i tripping balls man? i must be tripping balls. what is going on exactly cos i may be losing it. are my thoughts real or am i insane. please advise as i think you know.... - jordan nobel

APPEARING AT THE 2010 WHALEBONE OLD MAL CLASSIC - A MASTER OF TRADITIONAL EARLY TO MID 20TH CENTURY SURFCRAFT, THE CAPT'N, PARRISH WATTS

Whats that out on the horizon? Its Capt’n P’dog guiding his hand-crafted 16 foot toothpick through the treacherous walls of the Laguna Bay Bombora. Moustache blowing, typically a dagger strapped to his ankle in case of sharks, barracuda, sea eggs! He masterfully rides the curl with gay abandon. Trusting in his seaman-like abilities. Sheer-terror! To the landlocked.
The VPS toothpick has been faithfully revisited using the plans of the original masters. Hang it on your wall to impress the swingers. Peggy-sue will love it too! But be sure to surf it.
Here or as slogan for vps in general - RAW, PRIMITIVE SURFING FROM A TIME WHERE THE SPIIRIT HAD NOT BEEN TAMED AND MOULDED BY THE RELENTLESS MACHINE OF MODERN MATERIALISM. see the captain at the 2010 whalebone old mal classic, an insect surfer appearing as part of the oracle contingent

words kent turkich

insects coming to the 2010 Whalebone Old Mal Classic as part of the oracle contingent - the Admiral Tim Crabtree

An English stow-away, the Admiral Tim Crabtree has scraped together an existence in the Sunshine Coast woods, his modesty protected by a lone pair of crusty stubby shorts, scavenging like a fox for food scraps left in the backyards of the up-tight generation, occasionally eating like a king in the surf club car park. A Benny Hill-like wit and chiselled good looks have at one time or another endeared him to the lads as much as the ladies, but under the gaze of polite society he fails to function. Superior intelligence, aspergic precision and philosophical knowing have conspired to keep him on the other-side. His shortly cropped hair is straighter than that of Richie Cunningham, even the late/great Keith Paull, a destraction from his warped mind, otherwise apparent through an occasional twitch of the eye, a dribble, and other small discomforts. On an insect stick, however, Tim Crabtree is charged with the royal demeanour of his ancestor – Rodney Sumpter. Don’t miss a rare showing by this flamboyant introvert at the 2010 Whalebone Old Mal Classic.

THE 2010 OLD MAL WHALEBONE CLASSIC - THE INSECTS THAT ARE NOT ALIENS SURFING CLUB ARE COMING

Lachlan Leckie (Esq)

A Coolangatta castaway, this man-child of the moon was raised in innocence, bowling his hoop after church on a Sunday, frolicking in the filelds of Cobaki with his talking fluke. Then he started running with the fast set. Alex Knost and his slippery-handed henchmen. He heard the call for surfing of a type which follows only the associations thrown up by the mind; an on-edge style with no discipline other than the rhythms of untamed nervous impulses, undisturbed flow, simultaneously grasping the conscious and unconscious aspects of the experience. Developing a distain for sensible surfcraft and the illusion of singular truths regarding surfing as proposed by the mad insane complex in general, Lachlan obsessed over the woolly mammoth; a space/time vessel of considerable functionality, a mid-length vee bottom stubby with zero hang-ups, coming to the 2010 Whalebone Old Mal Classic as a part of The Oracle Contingent, and a member in god standing of THE INSECTS THAT ARE NOT ALIENS SURFING CLUB.
Words by kent turkich - insectsurf.blogspot.com

THE JORDAN NOBEL ORACLE FORMATION 2010 WHALEBONE OLD MAL CLASSIC - BLURRED CRUSADE

As if in a cameo, Jordan Nobel has felt estranged recently. He has been dreaming too much. Back to reality, his own truth, this wolf in sheeps clothing is a man of destiny; bound for the 2010 Whalebone Old Mal Classic.

The insects that are not aliens surfing club sells sanctuary to Jordan Nobel, Victorian Old Mal champion, the last of the introverts - sean hiding behind the curl, futily upholding his anonymity...

THE 2010 WHALEBONE OLD MAL CLASSIC - INSECT AND ORACLE CONTINGENT

The oracle formation is a company which is teased out like a fungus between the wild west coast, Coolangatta and noosa heads, queensland, providing support for small undernourished brands producing largely traditional surfcraft, Australian made surf clothing, and other art

For the whalebone we will be representing vintage pacific surfcraft, magic carpet, note surfboards, insect, switchfoot book. possibly Thomas bexon surfboards too

A team of the nations best traditional surfers will be staying at the insect penthouse in Cottesloe and participating in the bone, showcasing an on edge style of surfing owing heavily to the ‘we’re tops now’ era of Australian surfing circa 1966, midget farelly disciples in stubbies!, an Australian surfing resurrection? –

Captain p’dog (Parrish Watts) – noosa’s finest waterman, shapes 16 foot toothpicks in the noosa hinterland, co-creator of the current noosa craze for handplanes and early 20th century bellyboards. Tom blake revisionist...

Lachlan Leckie (esq) – coolangattas finest vee bottom exponent and member of psychedelic surf band rogerthat (http://www.myspace.com/rogerthatofficial), lachie will be bringing his magic carpet surfboard creations, and other mind expanding surf art. Presently the focus of a drunkmonkey feature film capturing the edges of Australian surfing, hes Ted Spencer on the verge of religion...

The admiral Tim Crabtree – a Rodney Sumpter descendent, Tim spent years in hiding amongst the sunshine coast scrub, eating mushroom soup scavenged from the local surfclubs. He has since risen to prominence as one of a new breed of English expats embracing the functional style of surfing dropped off here by Phil Edwards in the early 60s as seen in the film Surfing Hollow Days. Slightly unsane, he draws a critical line...

Jordan Nobel – victorias reluctant old mal champion 2009, the man least understood by his peers, a neil young with were woilf tendencies, jordan nobel vowed to knock jock bahen off when he howled – ‘i will knock jock bahen off!!!’ from a jan juc mountain crest

THE COUNT THREE SURFBOARD BY INSECT

The Count 3 is a traditional refined log adjusted through explorations of the curl by Jordan Nobel in Crescent Head, Jan Juc and other east coast trials, and according to Kent Turkich from tests in Noosa and the west coast. The Count 3 takes on the best parts of the 1966 ‘we’re tops era’ in conjunction with the heightened shaping consciousness of the present. Glassed in the finest resilient fashion by Sean Nettleton, this is the most traditional yet relevant longboard for point breaks and slop on either coast. Researched across both shores and through time...

Count 3 for pure joy!

SALES ENQUIRIES ARE ADMINISTERED THROUGH THE ORACLE FORMATION (AGENCY AND DISTRIBUTION FOR THE DREAMS OF SURFERS) CONTACT insectsurf@bigpond.com

THE COUNT 3 BY THE INSECTS THAT ARE NOT ALIENS SURFING CLUB; TRADITIONAL MIND SURFER FOR THE AUSTRALIAN SURF RESURRECTION 2010

ABOUT THE COUNT 3

the count 3 is a traditional style log in refined condition, adjusted by explorations of the curl by jordan nobel in crescent, jan juc and other east coast trials, and according to kent turkich from tests in noosa and the west coast. a truly australian board, the count 3 takes on the best parts of the 66 'we're tops now' era in conjunction with the growing shaping awareness and surfing localities of the present. glassed by sean nettleton, this is the most traditional yet up-to-date board for point breaks to slop on either coast, researched across both shores and through time...get aboard, pure joy is the trip!

note surfboards have delivered

all hail

SALES ENQUIRIES ARE ADMINISTERED THROUGH THE ORACLE FORMATION (AGENCY AND DISTRIBUTION FOR THE DREAMS OF SURFERS) CONTACT mailto:insectsurf@bigpond.com

ARISETH! SISTER SASHA

It would be almost impossible to have never heard of Note Surfboards. Their career has been the stuff of legend. Dangerously bizarre but most of all based in reality, Note represents everything that is truly reprehensible about surfing. A garage setting, ideals with integrity, glassing of the finest nature by Sean Nettleton. What's more, founding member of Note Surfboards, Jordan Nobel (the psycho-sexual Neil Young/Werewolf hybrid from hell) and soul-mate Sister Sasha Leitmanis (the ultimate bad girl vixen) are the architects of a far-out style that distills the swamp water, moonshine and nitrous-oxide of their Jan Juc surrounds down to a dangerous and unstable code of surfing. Their cultural impact has spawned a legion of devil cults and catfights in the line-up, and created in its wake a cavalcade of cave-stomping imitators, kooks enquiring -'human...or beast?' Their hair-raising perfomances in the soup , typically a total no-holds-barred new-traditional assault, are highlighted by more introspective moments of trim and tranquility. Pursuing this union of mayhem, they’re too far gone to even consider any other course...other than that headed for the innermost limits of the sun, the id, pure joy.

prophecies by kent turkich of the insects that are not aliens surfing club on behalf of note surfboards for the insectsurf jordan nobel pop art experimental trust

COUNT 3 THE 4TH

The insects that are not aliens surfing club is about to release the Count 3 from the grave, the 66 space/time port hole, now as then - joy. Shaped by Jordan Nobel, glassed by Sean Nettleton, speculated upon by Kent Turkich. Arise!

FROM THE CAVES AND CULDESACS OF COOLANGATTA, AUSTRALIA, ROGERTHAT!

THE INSECTS THAT ARE NOT ALIENS SURFING CLUB ARE DIGG'N THE CIRCUS-PSYCHE SOUNDS OF ROGERTHAT!
Got to cover these worm holes! Counting them as i go. The world is turning...round, and round. I keep on telling myself – ‘no one is following me.’ But roger that appear. 1, 2, 3...4! Murky at first; growing clarity and colour as they unbuckcle from the 4 holes, from the caves and uncharted subterranean seas below. A labyrinth. Space time continuum. Save me Jimmy, save me! They deliver to my oversized hand an oracle. Composure at last. A stitch in time saves 9, but loose lips sink ships. Regardless, I hear the oracle as it passes by the four in American civil war oufits, moustaches abounding ... Roger that started out playing surf clubs, stomps and bonfires on the gold coast, Australia, with a stack of reverb drippin’ dance hall favourites and lively instrumentals to a mincing following of nerdy men dressed largely in tan, crepe-soul desert boots and duffel coats. The darlings of the surfbeat sect, the nemisis of the inner suburban sharpies, dead meat for the rockers, these ‘four men in coke bottle glasses’ (as they were affectionatelly known by milk bar loiterers and kiosks hangers-on alike) have certainly come a long way since those lean, clean and slightly gay times. What happened, how did these young, straight-parted-hair boys go from bowling hoops in the culdesacs of Coolangatta to become the most progressive pop group of out times, prime perpetuators of the now sound: the sound understood only by the kids, the unheard, the down trodden? A wild, unattached meter of a generation detached from the down beat mood of their fathers, of the lost generation, of the zombie minded? Philosophers in paisley, mystical moon-worshippers. Destined to reside on the other side of the sidewalk. Roger 1 – jimmy! First and foremost, getting up to no good in his fathers tool shed, lead guitarist Jimmy stumbled upon the techniques of home distortion engineering in a Milo stained Boys Own Annual with Skippy on the front cover. The bush kangaroo never made much sound apart from a poorly dubbed – tutt tutt tutt; but when jimmy linked the wires of a discarded slot car set with an array of other rusted gadgets (according to the instructions in the manual), the resulting fuzz pedal created a sound to turn air to cottage cheese. Buzzzzzz! Roger 2 – Mad Daddy Dan! Feeling alone and unreal, drummer Dan transcribed his feelings on a floating scroll. This keith moon like child of the moon had trained his mind years before to move things, but he didnt care to do it anymore. Roger 2 – lord laclan leckie (esQ)! The oracle hovered to bass player lache. He couldn’t read it. But after talking with the caretaker on the plastic telephone, the inward looking lache found reality: solid, beautiful truth my friends. Recalling his desert ramblings, the boy-childs incoherent wandering through the Australian dessert 5 years ahead from now, lache produced a note pad and pecil. Fragmented, crazed sketches reflecting frayed memories strted to draw together into a coherent picture – the outline of a inner space probing moon-tailed vee bottom surfing board, the woolly mammoth, friends. Absenting himself temporarily from the group, lache returned from the soup, his mind still growing. Roger 4 – jesse! Finally, Singer jesse dropped his copy of Disraeli Gears in anticipation of the oracle. He ate Fruit Tingles every day for two weeks. Solid! Upon his return to the group, his only words were ‘When i surf, i dance for Allens’ Ladies and gentlemen and children of the sun, Rogerthat! - kent turkich http://www.myspace.com/rogerthatofficial http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3b83DaOu9E

DON'T BE AN EGG...VINTAGE PACIFIC SURFCRAFT

belly boards rise again this easter weekend. be a disciple!! join the faithful!!

CRESCENT HEAD MALIBU CLASSIC 2010 OLD MAL MELT DOWN

OLD MAL TO BE OVER 40S FRACADE - sisters and brothers i just dont see the diff, new, old...fairly old - none of its that old in the scheme of things, and the thing about the information revolution, the internet, the blogosphere, is that time and space are compressed, the spiral is squashed. its all on top of itself. like not long ago you couldnt look up a 60s garage band in an instant and change your hair style, or look up lance carson and get jazzed on that. its all the same stuff. just joy, self expression...the present era provides an opportunity to dissolve all those distinctions created by commercial interests starting around the time these boards were first ridden, which stiffled self expression and multiple truths. whether or not the present dilemma picks up on that opportunity is the question...for mine

DON'T SLIP ON THAT BANANA PEEL - THE INSECTS THAT ARE NOT ALIENS SURFING CLUB

NOOSA FESTIVAL OF SURFING 2010 RESULTS

Results for insect surfers - appropriately knocked off in the early heats. Lachlan Leckie in the opens - disqualified for lack of rocker in his board. The Messiah in the old mal - shot down for pefect execution of Bobby Brown head cock. INSECTSURF

STICK IT IN YOUR SACK!

From sunny Noosa Heads, Queensland, the VPS handplane is a pocket-sized surfing tool perfect for the sandgroper state (Western Australia!) in a crystalline to blown-out conditions. Regardless of your ability, from hotdogger to kook, you can enjoy the thrill of the deepest part of the curl at the City Beach Crusher, the Floreat Wedge, or the dreaded Scabs Shorebreak. Take care junior...this is serious fun! Alltime, anytime! Bang it in your glove box, stick it in your sack, the handsurfer is back!

boards for sale - no tyre kickers, rubbernecks and other zombies

these boards are for sale secondhand southcoast in good nic. bloke whos selling them overdosed on mottled coloured fruit tingles in a fit of suburban psychosis - 'when i surf, i surf for allens' rarely now, since the incident. price is negotiable really good for shit to crystal conditions west coast

LEROY HELL RAISIN' TRAD SURF FOOTAGE

Have you hooked up w Leroy? ‘leroy@drunkmonkeydigital.com' 0422712841 get onto him before, during and after the noosa festival.

Leroy produces the most hair raising footage of trad surfing ever imagined. Hes probably up to sharing a chiko roll while discussing the value of producing footage for your individual interests, as well as that which will go toward the return of the great assuie trad surf movie – a blast of psychedelic surf footage capturing creepy nerds from the swamps of aussie surf town culdesacs and back alleys, to the tune of kiosk rockers rogerthat and 80s/60s/friggn90s/2000s garage heads the stems, with limited narration by a radio announcer with residual conservative English accent, asking wats inside a curl? like he was talking about scones

Don’t trip on that banana peel!

Cmon! The great aussie surf resurrection is about to begin. Pull your fingers out helmet wearers!

Jordan nobel – consider the prospects of putting some stuff together

kent turkich @ ttree - lame midgett fiasco on count 5 garage series insect stick

the insect trust tempting retribution at ttree during the first swells of this joyous summer, executing mutant midgett jive of limited functionality

THE BIG QANTAS JET TAKES OFF

i gave jordan nobel an insects that are not aliens surfing club miki dora insect head tee that he must wear on the plane with his hair slicked back, rigid raybans, stove pipes, thin beatles tie and swede desert boots, waving as he makes his way across the tarmac and up the stairs, pausing for pictures. the big qantas jet takes off. after his time in these mystical marshes, new zealand, jordan nobel will return to torquay, his mind still growing, to put glass on the count 3 surfing boards

BROTHER TIM TAKES ON SYDNEY

Brother Tim Takes a trip to the harbour city. Boys and girls alike beware. The great archaeologist/insect surfer will retrace, scene by scene, the route taken by the film The Fantastic Plastic Machine. Ted Spencers flower in the sand at Manly? Midgetts footsteps on the Northern Beaches, Nat gone natural monologue clunkers amongst the stones thereabouts too. The vee bottom odyssey continues in 2010...

VINTAGE PACIFIC SURFCRAFT BELLY BOARDS - LOOK MUM...PLEASE? OH OKAY TIGER, I'LL GET ONTO INSECT SURF, BUT YOU MUST EAT YOUR SPROUTS...

Sunny Noosa. Seems there's a wave at every corner. And don't the kids love it! And why shouldn't they? Sporting the latest in VPS belly board designs (they come in all the colours of the rainbow by the way) these sun sucking boys and girls are demonstrating previously unseen acts of crusher defiance, dumper dexterity, pipe proficiency; showing extraordinary skill and expertise behind the 'curl', and now you can get lucky (hang on - in the surf that is), experience the same thrill, all across Australia through Vintage Pacific Surfcraft and Insect. Hey junior can i have a go? Sure daddy-o, these come in all shapes and sizes for hangers-on and hotdoggers alike - just let go...

YOU CAN TRUST IN JORDAN NOBEL

just spent two weeks on the road with three surfboards.things started bad.my dog jack died from the hand of god...he dropped a rock on him as i was surfing southside.this was a cruel and unusual twist of fate though it did nothing to ease my foot to the floor urges.i told myself jokes for five days on the southcoast,funny jokes too.then went north for more crystal dreams.i ran with some wolves in crescent,heavy bearded wolves with wild ambition and reckless hearts.then things got really fuckin strange...it was a full moon....i had a beard....i saw a man howling at the moon! it wasnt me but at the time i thought it was..i was like, fuck, hows jordan over there howling at the moon...oh wait, im jordan!!hahaha....then i went to a cave and when i came out the world was a different place...wild restless wanderings..in this great southern land..are never enough..driver reviver survivor..thats me.

A NOTE ON THE COUNT 3 - THE M.R. INDEX

It should have high mr (midget response) ie every stall, head cock, hand jive, arms up stall, arms up turn, cutback should be accentuated. Wen you do that stuff...

CHILD OF THE MOON - by jordan nobel

give me a theory
ill tell you a story...
i had a wild holiday no doubt.
nothing that couldnt be expected.
got loose with a former pipe master,howled at the moon all night with wild savages on lizard skin crescent head new years rocks.wild time...

ITS ABOUT TIME - JUST LET GO AND THE INSECTS THAT ARE NOT ALIENS SURFING CLUB IN COLLABORATION WITH JORDAN NOBEL NOTE SURFBOARDS WILL PROVIDE

Timeless exploration of the curl and your unshackled mind. Joy. Anything you want to do, peggy sue - trust in the insect this summer, as the summer of 67. This is the time...Production on the now range of insect inner space surfing vessels starts this week.

THE INSECT SURF JORDAN NOBEL POP ART EXPERIMENTAL TRUST TAKES FLIGHT

Jordan Nobel is an angelhearted hipster who has been otherwise engaged in the usual cosmic misadventures over the festering season (perfect days in Crescent Head, Northern, New South Wales, Australia, albeit with otherworldly figures in tow). He has landed. And just in tyme to join minds with the insect to finally complete the great Australian 66 surf resurrection, the Keven Brennan revival. The space time continuum will testify that we are tops now as then (with a gay cheerio to all our international friends, we love you all), and Jordan Nobel space vessels with Kent Turkich speculation will deliver YOU from the drudgery of domestic hell to the id of insect ideology, timeless surfing in an age where time is irrelevant, a borderless sea, at last...Our new models will emerge over the month. Rest easy, friends.