jackassworld

I’ve mentioned in the past how we first met Rob Dyrdek many years ago—long before a Fantasy Factory, long before a Big, long before a Dickhouse—and this photo dates back to February 1995 when he joined us on the Big Brother Mardi Gras tour. After seeing Rob on MTV, I’m sure many of you will view this photo as rather mundane in comparison to some of the other get-ups and situations he’s put himself in, but what you have to understand about Rob is that this was very, very, very out of character for him at the time (tantamount to career suicide in the more terminally cool pockets of the skateboard industry). In fact, it may even have been a bit disturbing for him, e.g. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, because the Mardi Gras tour was more than just another article in the magazine: it was a trip into the deeper recesses of man’s soul on par with that apocalyptic journey Martin Sheen once took into Vietnam to confront Colonel Kurtz and his fat heart of darkness. Only our Colonel Kurtz was named Jeff Tremaine and it the first time anyone had really witnessed his absurd fury unleashed … but more about that in the Big Brother memoir. Anyway, on his eventual return to society, I think Rob regretted a few of the things that took place during his time under Tremaine’s hell-bent wing, one being this cowboy outfit—especially when Tremaine later used the image on a Big Brother business card.

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Part of this week’s half-ass theme is spotlighting a few of the more noteworthy band interviews from the musty, old pages of Big Brother skateboard magazine. Chris Nieratko was one of our foremost contributors in this category back then, so I’d like to take this moment to more formally introduce him and his relation to jackass.

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Soon after the 1997 acquisition of Big Brother skateboard magazine by Larry Flynt Publications, Inc., I was contacted by this freelance writer named Chris Nieratko from New Jersey. He was interested in contributing articles to the mag, primarily band/music interviews, and he seemed to get the tone and spirit of the magazine. This interview with Angus Young of AC/DC was one of his earliest submissions—it ran in Big Brother issue #32—and I remember Jeff Tremaine questioning the validity of it when it arrived in the mail. Nieratko had only sent in the transcripts of the interview, not the original audio tapes, so we never knew exactly how the interviews went down. But a few months later we met Chris at a trade show and we never questioned his ability to be a barefaced asshole ever again.

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So not long after I published yesterday’s photo of the day post with “Series 2″ of the unofficial jackass action figures, I received a message from Nate saying that he’s working on the last one*. And, appropriately enough, it was Rip Taylor, the legendary comedian who has closed out not just one but two jackass feature films. Thanks again to Nate for amusing all of us involved with jackass over the years that have since been turned into clay figurines. It’s much better than we deserve.

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click here to watch the interview

There’s really no wondering where the wild things are now. For the past 17 odd days they’ve been rumpusing at theaters across the United States and various other parts of the broader global village (check here for international release dates). But if you’re still curious about Spike Jonze—and you should be, he’s a curious individual with a healthy dash of deviancy for good measure—check out this link to a 22-minute long video interview with the man himself (special thanks to Tzinaki for sniffing this link out).

On the night of the show’s debut episode in October 2000, I remember standing there in the bar we’d gathered in to collectively watch it down thinking, Well … from this point forward everything will be different. And it was. On several different levels. But one of the more fun things to do in the weeks to follow was skim through all the critical essays in the press that sought to deconstruct jackass and its relationship to society and the cultural direction it was plummeting. But for every four or five philosophical negatrons there was at least one critic that came out straight-shooting from the entertainment hip. Well, maybe not all were that straight, considering the best review of all came from the “Gay & Lesbian” section of Time Out New York: “And the award for most male nudity on TV goes to Jackass, MTV’s hysterical new program of daredevil acts. Uninhibited host Johnny Knoxville and gang will do absolutely anything for a laugh, which quite often means hitting the streets stark naked. Plus, there’s plenty of shower scenes—the guys are forever washing up after stunts such as diving into elephant poo. The show is gross and outrageous and, oddly enough, a turn-on.”

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Well, it would appear that our merry molder in the community just can’t put his fingers to rest, so I’m proud to present the unofficial “Series 2″ of Nate Merritt’s clay creations inspired by the various faces of the jackass cast and crew. This collection includes a significant build out in the West Chester sect and fills in a few more crew holes—oh yeah, crew holes. Personally, I can’t wait until he devises a way to add some serious action features to these figures. A Lance Bangs that giggles and/or retches when you push a button? A Spike Jonze with spring-action ball-kick leg? A Trip Taylor that pirouettes and screams whenever a tiny lever moves a tarantula across his back? Okay, maybe that last one should be a part of the subsequent Wildboyz collection at a later production date, but you get the idea. Anyway, great job Nate. And nice touch with the Old Man’s balls. If only Santa was so lucky as to have you in his sweatshop of elves.

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Does anyone remember the jackassworld 24-hour takeover when we finally made it to within spitting distance of the finish line and could do nothing more than dance, dance, dance? That’s kinda how I feel after fandangling this week-long Halloween marathon. Tomorrow it will be back to business as usual beginning with the arduous but necessary process of taking down the seasonal marquee decor. So get your last Hallow’s Eve licks in before the Tasmanian devils polish off door number two, the bat returns to his belfry, the hearse to the mortuary, and the Wildboyz to their regularly scheduled speaking voice. Until then, I leave you with this Day of the Dead dance party. Yes, Virginia, the dead can dance. Not always well, mind you, but it’s the spirit that counts. And on that note…

If you think I’m a day off here, think again … although I do admit that whole “spring ahead/fall back” thing can be a real pisser on the cranial clock. I’m still confused as to what time it is. I have four different clocks in my room, all with varying times, and I don’t know which one to believe. What I do know, though, is that the official Dia de los Muertos takes place over the days of November 1st and 2nd, as it’s preceded by the All Hallow’s Eve shenanigans on October 31st. Typically this celebration is reserved for remembering the familial dead (or perhaps just nursing a monster hangover and wishing you were dead), but in this morbid racing instance I think we should instead take pause to reflect upon the NASCAR death of Dale Earnhardt during the Daytona 500 in 2001. [Insert reverential moment of silence here.] Okay, now onto the fun, because unlike the repetitive nature of auto-racing there simply is no time to sit and watch the stucco dry as Chris Pontius and Steve-O take it to the cobblestone streets of Mexico in this bone-jarring celebration of the go-karting dead!

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Uh, yeah. So we had a slight problem with Lauren Graham’s post earlier and it has since been removed and placed somewhere in the cornfield. Yes, that cornfield. Some of you are well familiar with it thanks to the past handiwork of Michelle and The Wolf Den, others possibly via Rod Serling, but that may only be a reference enjoyed by the likes of Laura Z, Wolfie, Joyx2, and myself. Anyway, what does remain is a frame grab from what I believe was professional skateboarder Mike Carroll’s entry in the Great Chris Casey Pumpkin-Carving Contest, which shall now in any future usages be referred to as the “GCCPCC” for brevity’s sake. The GCCPCC was held last weekend here in Chris Casey’s Hollywood backyard and was attended by the likes of Lauren, Dimitry, and other people of a marginally demented sort.

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