Commercial for a local credit union

Lau Willems' "Love And Unity," a competitive skateboarding round-up, The Shape of Paris, I receive a gift and a curse, and more.

Commercial for a local credit union

The definitive weekly ranking and analysis of all the skateboarding and other things online that I cannot stop consuming and how it makes me feel, personally.

Love And Unity

Rank: 1
Mood: ❤️

Last week, in the newsletter that went into everyone's spam folder, I did some of my Standard Yammering about the power of a skateboarding video that Makes You Feel Something and how there are a number of ways to achieve that, including when there's a "storyline burbling underneath." In Lau Willem's excellent L.A.U. (Love And Unity) video part released by Free Skate Mag on Monday, her story — and a taildrop into an incredibly large, crusty brick embankment — also serve as its bookends.

The first attempts at the trick, presented as taking place before Willems transitioned, result in a series of wince-inducing bodyslams into the bricks below and what appears to be an unsuccessful mission. Time passes.

“I basically gave up skateboarding for a while because I was scared of what people would think about me or if they’d laugh at me — you know, all that stuff. I actually stopped skating for about a year." Willems told Free.

While speaking to Leticia Nogueira for an interview in the latest issue of Dolores, she touched on what the past two years of her life have been like since transitioning — the initial difficulty of telling people, the love and support of her friends once she did, getting back into skating, and finding motivation in skaters like Arin Lester.

L.A.U. is a culmination of that effort, of that time, process, and is a testament to becoming. "...my friend and I had this idea: what if we just keep filming, and maybe turn it all into a part that shows who you are and kind of tells the timeline of everything that happened?" 

Willem's incredible display of technical skateboarding is made all the more special as we watch her come into herself throughout, skating a medium to express that journey. The section ends with Willems attempting the taildrop that eluded her years before. She slams, gets up, and then succeeds where she once couldn't find a path forward. Unsubtle and wholly affecting is the allegory.

Lau Willems in L.A.U. | Filmed and edited by Ruben Vermeulen

"Don’t doubt yourself," Willems told Nogueira. "If you know who you are, just be who you want to be. There’s other people like you, there’s people who appreciate you and love you, and you will never be alone."

Competitive skateboarding round-up

Rank: 1, 2, 3, 4
Mood: 🥇🥈🥉🎀

Can you hear that? The trumpets, they sound. Victory is at hand — for some. Such is the nature of competition. In the arena of competitive skateboarding, those trumpets are a little off-key; this world is not exactly comfortable with horn in hand, but they're doing their best. Honking.

On Saturday, the Professional Skateboarding League held their "Elimination Night" event, the penultimate showdown before tomorrow's finals.

It's been a pretty up-and-down run for the PSL's inaugural season. There have been the struggles, like the last-minute postponement of their debut event due to the custom course they'd built at the Crailtap warehouse suddenly falling through and having to move operations over to Paul Rodriguez's skatepark (I've heard, currently unconfirmed, chatter that Crailtap received an eviction notice shortly after PSL's course was finished construction), some production difficulties, and last week's series of complete blow-outs (with final scores in each match-up of 13-3, 15-4, and 16-2).

That said, Saturday's event was easily the best performance to date from the commentary team, who have had issues finding the right gear. And the full-body-cringe-inducing intro package, whose script sounds like ChatGPT pablum, and referred to Chris Joslin landing tricks as "significant strikes," if Mike Mo Capaldi's admiration for the UFC wasn't obvious enough, was actually pretty entertaining in a "sickos" kind of way.

And when a PSL game is good, a game is good. Top-tier skateboarding is always a treat to watch, and, as Rodriguez put it in an early promo video, a format as straightforward as this takes the guesswork out of the competition. Either land it or don't. And these skaters can land. Some. Shit. Well, except for last weekend.

I might not be watching live, but I'm excited for the finals.


You want leagues? You got 'em. The Moonpay X Games League, which you do, legally, have to call Moonpay X Games League every time you refer to it or face imprisonment and/or public flaying, held its inaugural draft last weekend.

I haven't seen much about the draft besides the video above and a few social media posts, but my immediate observation is that the "event recap" video published three days ago to the X Games YouTube channel, which has 2.1 million subscribers, only has, as of writing this, 890 views. Curious. Beyond that, it is cool that legitimate high-level athletes like Chloe Covell, Arisa Trew, and Tom Schaar get to experience what it's like to be a legitimate high-level athlete in an actual sports league, if only for a night.

However, it is, to put it mildly, disturbing that to do so, Moonpay X Games League is using literal children to promote their presenting sponsors: a "cryptocurrency exchange" in Moonpay and Stake, a predatory offshore crypto casino that is only legal in 33 or so American states.

Screengrab via X Games on Instagram

At least the red carpet looked fun.


I didn't have time to watch all of "FISE Battle Of The Champions Macau" (shoutout 'sletter friend Harry Meadley for sending it my way), but I do want to acknowledge how bonkers (complimentary) it is that the event was held inside of a hotel in Macau's Studio City — which is, to quote its website, a "glamorous entertainment resort" — that already has concrete skatepark on its roof.

The Studio City Sk8te Park is so advanced that "It is prohibited to put any wax and/or paraffin on any obstacle of the Sk8te Park without the Studio City on-site staff’s authorization," according to clause 19 of the facility's "Condition of Entry" agreement. That's the future I dream of!


KASSO FEST SKATE & SOUND takes place in Long Beach, California, this weekend. While it might not fit the mould of your typical "competitive skateboarding" event, there is undoubtedly a competitive element to it. As KASSO itself says, it's "skaters vs. the course."

And the course for their upcoming event in Long Beach is formidable, to say the least. If you haven't seen any teasers, do click on these links.

Aidan Campbell testing out the Grasshopper | Video via Kasso on Instagram

Of all the "competitive skateboarding" events rounded up here, KASSO is clearly the closest to capturing the, shall we say, spirit of skateboarding. A bunch of skateboarders getting silly, challenging themselves on an obstacle over and over again, slamming in embarrassing fashion, and having a great time while doing so? That's a regular Saturday for my friends and me, sans the absurdist million-dollar bespoke structures, musical performances, and two-day festival atmosphere.

For KASSO, this is clearly a big swing to take the show on the road in such a substantial way. KASSO producer Yohei Yasunaga shared with me over email that "It took about a year from the initial launch of the project to get here, but honestly, it still feels like we didn’t have nearly enough time."

It all goes down tomorrow. The nice person doing PR for the event reached out to me a few weeks back to see if I was interested in covering KASSO FEST SKATE & SOUND. I don't typically agree to pitches like that here, but I am genuinely fascinated with KASSO and moved by the silly heart of skateboarding, and they were kind enough to pass my questions along to Yasunaga for a standalone piece I've been working on about KASSO, so in that spirit, here is some genuine, honest-to-goodness, down-home coverage: KASSO is a hoot.

You can watch the livestream on Red Bull TV tomorrow and Sunday.

Kasso Fest Skate & Sound
Chaos meets pure joy as Kasso Fest Skate & Sound goes live from Long Beach, California, for the first time worldwide.

Commercial for a local credit union

Rank: 1
Mood: 🇫🇷🗼🥐

What a creative partnership does, in its ideal form, is bring the best out of all parties involved. That is certainly the case with filmmaker Brett Novak and his on-board muse Andy Anderson. It was evident from their first big project, Andy Anderson: a Short Skate Film in 2018, which has nearly two million views on YouTube and helped elevate Anderson to a level of recognition beyond his (then) niche corner of the skateboarding world, to their latest project, Andy Anderson: The Shape of Paris.

The duo finds its success at the intersection of their greatest respective attributes. Novak's vision as a filmmaker, his bright, polished cinematography and somewhat bland editorial direction can be best described as Commercial for a Local Credit Union. Vaguely inspiring work made for as wide an audience as possible. That makes for an ideal pairing with Anderson, whose skill level and breadth of ability on a skateboard are so high and so unique that even the layperson — hell, especially the layperson — can get a thrill out of watching him freestyle in front of the Louvre.

Those are ingredients for a video bound to go virale.

Which is all perfectly fine. The Shape of Paris is an enjoyable watch, even if it doesn't exist within the standard categorization of "skateboarding video." I'd argue that's better for it, as Novak's work has become distinct, something a skateboarder will immediately recognize as a video their non-skating colleagues at work are going to share with them over Slack.

According to Novak's Instagram, even Steven Spielberg got a kick out of it.

Screengrab via Brett Novak on Instagram.

If Novak shot The Shape of Paris on an old VX1000 with a scratched-up fisheye, would the director of Jurassic Park have given a shit? Doubtful.

Well, who knows, really? I wonder if Spielberg has seen Fucktards.

A gift and a curse

Rank: -7
Mood: 🏒

As soon as I accepted, I knew I'd made a mistake. Through a work engagement, a number of us in the office were given a gift, one that I wasn't aware I'd be receiving. I usually politely decline these offers, mostly because I don't like clutter — I don't need more things. Here, however, I didn't have the opportunity to issue the necessary and pre-emptive "no thanks."

A colleague handed it to me with a wry smile, knowing it was the last thing I wanted, but I couldn't deny The Company's generosity now. It would be rude to refuse at this point. Effort had gone into procuring it.

So, I took it home, smuggled it in like contraband: a signed Brady Tkachuk Ottawa Senators jersey.

This was just days before the Olympic ice hockey finals, where Team USA handed Team Canada a crushing defeat in the gold medal game. Before Brady and his dufus brother Matthew celebrated with Lost Nelk Boy, FBI Director Kash Patel, in the locker room post-game, igniting a minor scandal and major embarrassment. Before Team USA glad-handed with Donald Trump at the White House and ate small, sad fast-food burgers to celebrate their Olympic victory. Before the White House social media groypers posted an AI-doctored video of Brady talking shit about Canada, the country in which he plays professional hockey. Before the team were used as props at the State of the Union, which was just days before the president of their crumbling empire started an illegal war against Iran.

Since I invited that cursed item into my apartment, where I quickly stuffed it into my closet and offered it to multiple friends — none of whom responded in the group chat — so much had gone awry with me personally. My fridge started leaking water, I misplaced the cargo net for my bike basket, I lost my NBA fantasy league playoff bracket, and most devastating, since that cheapo-Fanatics toxic waste crossed the threshold of my home, I had not successfully clipped up. Multiple weekends going out street skating with the pals had amounted to zilch, zero, nada clips.

Last Saturday, as we prepared to head out on another weekend mission, I knew I needed to take action and exorcise my demon, so I left the jersey on an electrical box in the park.

Apologies to the now presumably cursed person who grabbed it.

I'm happy to report that all of us clipped up that day. Curse lifted, dry spell broken. Which means, ultimately, go to hell, Brady Tkachuk.

Something to consider: A new issue of The HTML Review just dropped this morning.

the html review 05
the html review is an annual journal of literature made to exist on the web

Good thing: Barrier Kult's latest, Horde 3, is available to rent. I may have a sneaky lil guest trick in it.

BA. KU. Horde 3 | BA. KU. Horde 3
BARRIER KULTS 3RD VIDEO INSTALLMENT
A matter of faith
The Barrier Kult finds and makes meaning.

Good Ian thing:

Skate Jawn Frosted Flakes by Ian Browning
Skate Jawn Frosted Flakes by Ian Browning A short story by Ian Browning, from issue 90. Out now.

Good Norma thing:

Girls Skate Jam 2026 - Suzano Brazil - Norma Ibarra

Good Ted thing:


Good Simon thing:


New shoe company alert thing:

Richard Stickney is Launching a Skate Shoe Brand
“My parents were just like,‘No dude, you’re getting a job.’”

Everyone has probably seen this, but it's just so damn good thing:


That's right, another good thing:


Until next week… live, laugh, love, and let it linger.


Laser Quit Smoking Massage

NEWEST PRESS

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A collection of essays that I think you might like. The Edmonton Journal called it a "local book set to make a mark in 2024," The CBC said it's "quirky yet insightful" (lol), and it won Trade Non-Fiction Book of the Year at the 2025 Alberta Book Publishing Awards.

Book cover by Hiller Goodspeed.

Order the thing

Right, Down + Circle

ECW PRESS

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I wrote a book about the history and cultural impact of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater that you can find at your local bookshop or order online now. I think you might like this one, too.

Photo via The Palomino.

Order the thing