theFUTURISTS

Jericho Beach- Is that me?
Po-Po Patrol- Civil servants more like it

Walking down to Jericho Beach, you start to get a feeling that you’re not in kansas anymore. Holding an open Pilly in my pocket as I passed the Yacht club, I almost got ran over by a silver BMW Z4. The tennis club next door is full of socialite bitches all dressed in white, tweeting on their blackberries. The East Van in me was trying pretty hard not to yell out “OI! CUNT!”. Skeptical as ever I wandered on down and found the log where some friends where relaxing. There was plenty of space on a monday evening and most of the logs around us were unoccupied. The sand was clean, the water was warm, as perfect as the neighbourhood pays for it to be. I’m a tough sell, however, and nothing was going to convince me that this beach was more than another under appreciated luxury that the people of Kitsilano like to brag about. When i was considering packing up my beers and heading back to Crab Park, it began. A sunset that rivaled the dramatic twilight seen at Wreck Beach. The oranges and reds contrasting with the blues, pinks and purples reflecting upon the water instils an image that i will testify is better than any 3D movie. Geese flocking in and having cold turf wars made us all hush up and watch in anticipation. The panoramic span from one end to the other is spectacular, with the sunset on your left, sparkling north van infront of you, and downtown tempting you on the right.
Alright Jericho, You win. As much as I enjoy being an east van scuzzer for the time being, maybe one day i’ll be a greedy bastard too and make a ton of money so i can drive my BMW to the tennis club, text a little, and then go to your fine beach and watch the night fall. Until then, i’ll be catching the 99 B-line all the way back to the Drive.

Enjoy the sunset by clicking the link. (more…)

Wreck Beach- No tan lines, No rules
Po-Po Patrol- Easily avoided

BC Days sounded like a celebration to me until I found out it meant all the BCL’s were closed. We discovered this after travelling all the way down to UBC. As we walked with heavy hearts to the never ending staircase that leads you to Wreck Beach, we almost forgot about the cirque de soleil that was waiting for us at the bottom. One word: Dicksdicksdickstitstitstits. Surrounding us was a naked hippy grandfather gently playing Trucks with his naked grandson and a gamer couple who looked like they were spending their first day outdoors in years. Ahhh, the land of lost judgement. Nearly every ten minutes we were offered magical treats and intoxicating beverages from the local vendors, making our BCL nightmare obsolete. And yes, i went nude (for a portion of the time). Try prancing through the light, tickling waves in nothing but your skinny and you will not see any reason to visit another beach for the rest of the summer. The regulars are nothing short of angelic as well, giving us free beer, water, ice cream and treats while we lied sans shirts in the sun. Their howl spreads down the beach like a wave in order to alert others of the Po. Even the naked grandpa took a moment to play us an eerie tune on his clarinet, which is an image that will forever haunt Mike Steel. Every night is topped off with a spectacular sunset and a herd of locals dancing and cheering and spreading Peace and Love, man. It’s an experience you can wrap up in a cozy blanket and put in your happy thoughts for later.

I HIGHLY recommend you make the trip down to wreck this summer if you’re looking for relaxation and voyeurism. If you’re looking for dirty water and crowds of people with sticks up their asses, then please avoid this beach. But one piece of advice before you go; Remember, never follow a hippy to a second location.

Enjoy the sunset by clicking the link (more…)

English Bay- Fuck you, you have too many people.
Po-po patrol- Extreme
What’s worse than meeting someone super attractive and charming only to find out that they’ve slept with the entire town? Well, plenty i’m sure, but it’s still enough for you to flip them the bird and continue your search to find someone better. Are you following my metaphor for English Bay?

Third Beach- Ew, what are we doing?
Po-po Patrol- Frequent
All my friends are texting me “Hey, come to Third!”, so we hop up in the witches truck only to find ourselves at the Beach Clurb. Everybody but us has shown up on their new fixie with $650 sunglasses on and the purpose of being seen to be scene. West. Van. Hipsters. There I said it. Party pictures at the beach. I’m embarassed…and i’m going to be back in that corner of the beach way too many times this summer.

Sunset Beach- Garbage Water
Po-po Patrol- Minimal
So after trying to find parking for the Beach Clurb for twenty five minutes, we give up and head down to Sunset. So content to be out of a car and at the beach, we all drop our bags and book it to the ocean. Eeeeeeuck. I swear im not lying when i say we found two headless bodies covered in shit. That water is dank.

So far none of the beaches are quite what i’m looking for. I’ll be hitting up Wreck and Spanish Banks this week in order to find both you and I a beach that is spacious and modest with crystal clear waters. I will not stop beaching until i find it.

Over the last few days I’ve come up with many different excuses on why I shouldn’t write this update — right here, right now — and even now I’m not entirely sure it’s the right time, but hell… why the fuck not. In one palm: there is sickness, this foreign keyboard that slows my fingers and inhibits the natural tempo of my mind, arguments between the founding fathers and I, and a complete disbelief in my ability to accurately recount the history of this last week and a half. In the other palm: the pure need to express what is in my heart and what weighs so heavy now on my feverish mind. Let’s begin as we should, at the beginning.

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And now that I’m here, I’ve got the distinct feeling that I’m never coming back. Or at least… if I do, it won’t be for good. Originally, my return ticket was booked for the end of April. That was no good. Three weeks gallivanting around this wonderful continent is not nearly enough, especially when one of those weeks is spent making long-overdue house-calls to family members who have barely seen my face since I was born.

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This is the coolest thing ever!

If you have a website or a blog or anything webrelated_ have you ever wondered what it would sound like?

well now you can!_ with this super radical code organ you can make your websites code turn into sound!

this is what the futurists website sounds like!

theFuturists on Code Organ (click here)

what does your website sound like?

share your sound with us on twitter!

@thefuturists

The dating game can be hard; I mean we’re all so very different aren’t we? No matter how many relationships you’ve had in the past, you’re never prepared for what comes next. Most of all, a successful relationship requires a lot of work from both sides, and any imbalance (perceived or deliberate) can mean an end to the fun before you’ve even gotten started.

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Here is some crappy story I wrote three or four years ago for a creative writing workshop, which I found on my computer recently. The class was focused on non-fiction, so it’s really more of a personal narrative than anything else. It’s pretty dumb, and won’t make sense to anyone, but I’m quite bored and it’s about time I posted something on here. So here it is, completely unedited. Enjoy, or don’t.. I’m quite sure I don’t mind either way.

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