Eulogy For An Ancient Astronaut
Skating Says Goodbye To Marc Johnson
Here’s the deal, he was the best.
He was the best because he was a weirdo, genius hiding out as a human.
Hiding out as a human in this world can be perilous, there’s a cost. This world assumes its permanence and takes itself so serious that it increasingly becomes a parody of all seriousness yet it demands of you that you support its mythos in order to survive. So as you age and begin to see the conspiracy you’re pushed towards two popular paths, either get in the fuckin-ignorant-hole and keep digging or become so invested in the melodrama you grow fragile, frightened, stressed and increasingly absent in your own life
A road diverged in the forest modern man (gender neutral). The only certainty with either one is that the small spark inside you, the spirit of kindergarten-y wonder will be squeezed, mocked, ignored, spit on and shamed until it’s just more burnt tinder. Adding insult to injury most of that will be done by you to yourself with the bullying encouragement of the world around you.
He’s the best because he seemed to defy that, even when he struggled.
He defied that because he loved this toy that we all love (“toy” feels pejorative and I don’t feel pejorative about this but its his word). The costs it exacts are outweighed by the tools it provides you to define your life, and the people it attracts to help you do that. He was one of those people for a lot of us. I feel like the more we lose the bright lights and the big mouths in skateboarding, the more I tend to believe that this toy is actually a sacred object that can trace its origin back to the spiritual practices of indigenous pacific islanders who surfed the waves to delight their Gods.
Well, the Gods have changed over the years as has the ocean. The modern gods are lame, they are the gods of debt, addiction, self improvement, fame, wealth, victim-hood and predation. They make their temples in thrown out fast food wrappers, truck nuts, data centers, calls to the cops, pedo-political sects and soulless corporate architecture.
Street skating is also an act of defiance against these lower, cheaper spirits. It’s pure disrespect to all they’re trying to sell and how they assess value. A declaration of loyalty made through the heart and body to lives that value joy, craft, community and stupid courage. It is proof that there are still beings down here that haven’t forgotten what it’s like to stand above ground and celebrate the air that fills your lungs. Beings that will throw themselves down stairs, banks and ledges to prove it.
He was a champion for all of us in this way, showing the heights you can reach and the cost of the valleys you can fall to.
His humor and his frustration were like twins fighting for control over the same body when he grappled with a trick. In video part after part we watched him loose his literal mind in pursuit of 10 to 20 seconds of pure perfection, then do it again and again until he had minutes of footage.
He was the best because he was an open book in the age of image and personal branding.
I’ve been listening to interview after interview with him since the news dropped on Tuesday and the one consistent is his commitment to the truth. He talked openly throughout his life in interview after interview about the his personal struggles and efforts to heal. In a beautifully written piece for Chromeball, he uses his love of the REM album Eponymous to explain how painful and isolating his childhood was. How the instability of his upbringing and the ways he was denied love continued to impact him throughout his life; and how the magic (cause it is fucking magic you fucks) of finding a community who love you and this activity to obsess over saved him. In other interviews he says as much, that looking back on his life there was a script for him that ended young and in tragedy but that skateboarding (“this fucking toy”) rescued him from that. It literally became a seat in a car heading from North Carolina to California.
He shared openly about his struggles with drinking and the impact of being on the go in the chaos of professional skating during its zenith; of always feeling like he didn’t belong. That imposter syndrome that can stay on your heals like a basset hound, ever loyal to our suffering yowling, “You better shut the fuck up because you’re lucky to even be here.”
The most insidious and damaging lies are the ones that can claim roots in truth because here’s the thing, yes he was lucky to be there, stars aligned, triple cherries fell, “7, 7-11, 7-11, 7” to quote Ice Cube. But you don’t film a revolutionary three song video part that takes the skate world’s collective jaw and stretches it all the way to the floor out of luck. That’s something in him, the spirit he carried that stepped into his life and decided to meet the energy of the moment with all he had to offer. Doing it with style, speed and love.
It’s always the same feeling for me when a giant passes and my social media feed becomes an audio/visual eulogy to them entirely. Recognizing how special the person was and wishing they were still here, in their body, in their five senses. So they can take in the story of how much they are loved and appreciated with all of their human awareness. The magical thinking that if we love them enough the old gods might muster up some loaves and fishes, Lazarus type magic and give them back so we can keep the party going; or maybe that if we can love and appreciate them in their passing it will be like they never left at all. There’s also the sadder truth that a person can be the focal point for enormous amounts of love but not be a position where they can feel it and that breaks my heart.
He is gone but I can confirm (thanks to what he left behind) that he did a lot of investigation and analysis of not only himself but also the hereafter to which to he left. He read the books, chanted the chants, talked with the holy people and telephoned the psychics. I really hope he didn’t want to go or feel like he had to, but since he has, I hope he’s also enjoying getting the answers he sought and slowly pushing into the bright light that (according to RA Material Ancient Astronaut Book which he recommended) has been guiding and appearing to humans since we first stood to dance.
We are the ones still around without answers.
We can't help but form these relationships with the people who have been in our niche worlds for decades, for as long as we stay involved. Especially when their work their personality was this big. Close relationships that I’m sure to the outside world can seem weird, but it’s a good reminder that he always encouraged us not to care so much about what the outside world thought. He was one of us and of course we mourn our own. Especially when he was one of our best, not just at skateboarding but at refusing to relinquish the spark to create something special. At showing us the value of not taking it all too seriously while still giving everything you have to what you love. At raging against the dying of the light
Judging that is some New gods bullshit.
We celebrate our heroes and will tell their stories long after they’re gone.