Philosophy on Nias Tuberiding

[Clif]

dream it up fellas. A bloke I met at Nias has made sick vid on youtube. Surfed with him when the swell came up, rode different boards, and obviously charged.



Go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4B1XecZL ... re=related

[2nd Reef]

Looks like a very wise man Clif.

[Lucky Al]

if only the music faded in the middle to allow phil to ramble on over it about how tuberiding at nias embodied all of the world's philosophies both eastern and western that vid would be perfect

[Wielly]

i reakon the wave looks heaps diff, haven't seen it since tsunami. Looks heaps suckier on the take off.

[DF]

That wave is a dream.

1:02. Large.

[oldman]

Great music, which went perfectly with his graceful fluid style on amazing waves.

I'm transported. How am I supposed to work after that!

[JFish]

Hey Clif, what length boards where you riding - looked like one of them was about 7'.

[dy_fo_life]

Hey clif,
is that your mackie quad diamond tail up on ebay at the moment??
If yes, care to divulge your height to weight ratio.
cheers

[Faniel]

met that guy at Soraki Point in June, quiet dude and really smooth. always found the barrel even when it wasnt that offshore. nice to relive it on video but even nicer when in the lineup.

[Hano]

Seductive, even on film.
Hopefully I'll met her one day.
No doubt she'll steal my heart too

[mustkillmulloway]

4 min 45 seconds and not one goofy

p.s music has this great bass.....both it and the waves are stuck in my head

[Deadbolt]

the song is lebanese blonde by the thievery corporation if anyone was wondering, great track and great video. bought myself a painting of nias whilst in bali recently, such a beautiful wave.

[Clif]

J-fish,

I rode everything from a 6'2 to 7'0.

On the really big day I was under-gunned. A bloke rode a beautiful 7'10, and got the best waves by far. By the time I got into them I was looking into oblivion hahaha

[Lucky Al]

Dropping in on Clif's J-Fish, I felt a shock of panic, which I tried to pin to my having failed to mention to my friend that I was borrowing his board while he remained in the losmen sweating and shuddering in fetal position for the third day in a row, and not to the fact that the tail of his ridiculously short and fat 'surfboard' had dropped out and I was in total free-fall. I shut my eyes - I opened them. Then I saw the tube at Nias.

I arrive now at the ineffable core of my story. And here begins my despair as a writer. All language is a set of symbols whose use among its speakers assumes a shared past. How, then, can I translate into words the limitless tube at Nias, which my floundering mind can scarcely encompass? Mystics, faced with the same problem, fall back on symbols: to signify the godhead, one Persian speaks of a bird that somehow is all birds; Alanus de Insulis, of a sphere whose center is everywhere and circumference is nowhere; Ezekiel, of a four-faced angel who at one and the same time moves east and west, north and south. (Not in vain do I recall these inconceivable analogies; they bear some relation to the tube at Nias.) Perhaps the gods might grant me a similar metaphor, but then this account would become contaminated by literature, by fiction. Really, what I want to do is impossible, for any listing of an endless series is doomed to be infinitesimal. In that single gigantic instant I saw millions of acts both delightful and awful; not one of them occupied the same point in space, without overlapping or transparency. What my eyes beheld was simultaneous, but what I shall now write down will be successive, because language is successive. Nonetheless, I shall try to recollect what I can...

[Lucky Al]

*i'm taking this almost straight out of borges' short story 'the aleph', having read the story again this afternoon and thought parts of it suited to a thread entitled 'philosophy on nias tuberiding'.

[Lucky Al]

Ahead of me I saw an iridescent sphere of almost unbearable brilliance. At first I thought it was revolving; then I realised that this movement was an illusion created by the dizzying world it bounded. The tube's diameter was probably little more than ten feet, but all space was there, actual and undiminished. Each thing (a mirror's face, let us say) was infinite things, since I distinctly saw it from every angle of the universe. I saw the teeming sea; I saw daybreak and nightfall; I saw the multitudes of America; I saw a silvery cobweb in the center of a black pyramid; I saw a splintered labyrinth (it was London); I saw, close up, unending eyes watching themselves in me as in a mirror; I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me; I saw in a backyard of Soler Street the same tiles that thirty years before I'd seen in the entrance of a house in Fray Bentos; I saw bunches of grapes, snow, tobacco, lodes of metal, steam; I saw convex equatorial deserts and each one of their grains of sand; I saw a woman in Inverness whom I shall never forget; I saw her tangled hair, her tall figure, I saw the cancer in her breast; I saw a ring of baked mud in a sidewalk, where before there had been a tree; I saw a summer house in Adrogué and a copy of the first English translation of Pliny - Philemon Holland's - and all at the same time saw each letter on each page (as a boy, I used to marvel that the letters in a closed book did not get scrambled and lost overnight); I saw a sunset in Querétaro that seemed to reflect the colour of a rose in Bengal; I saw my empty bedroom; I saw in a closet in Alkmaar a terrestrial globe between two mirrors that multiplied it endlessly; I saw horses with flowing manes on a shore of the Caspian Sea at dawn; I saw the delicate bone structure of a hand; I saw the survivors of a battle sending out picture postcards; I saw in a showcase in Mirzapur a pack of Spanish playing cards; I saw the slanting shadows of ferns on a greenhouse floor; I saw tigers, pistons, bison, tides, and armies; I saw all the ants on the planet; I saw a Persian astrolabe; I saw in the drawer of a writing table (and the handwriting made me tremble) unbelievable, obscene, detailed letters, which Beatriz had written to Carlos Argentino; I saw a monument I worshipped in the Chacarita cemetery; I saw the rotted dust and bones that had once deliciously been Beatriz Viterbo; I saw the circulation of my own dark blood; I saw the coupling of love and the modification of death; I saw the tube from every point and angle, and in the tube I saw the earth and in the earth the tube and in the tube the earth; I saw my own face and my own bowels; I saw your face; and I felt dizzy and wept, for my eyes had seen that secret and conjectured object whose name is common to all men but which no man has looked upon - the unimaginable universe.

[puurri]

*i'm taking this almost straight out of borges' short story 'the aleph', having read the story again this afternoon and thought parts of it suited to a thread entitled 'philosophy on nias tuberiding'.

And perhaps moreso "The Realms Of Perception" and sundry texts of that era.

[Lucky Al]

hmmm, although i really enjoyed reading 'the aleph' and got quite excited at the prospect of sharing some of it with my fellow realsurfers, i now feel quite an idiot. i'll get offline and go for a beer, then.