I wrote an email to Dave Carnie, famed for helping the Jackass boys get out there, and more importantly, writing for the now out of print skateboard magazine "Big Brother". My letter and his response follow:
Hey Dave.
When I was a young lad at Slam City Jam, oh say 2000, or 2001, Mic-e Reyes, in all his tough guy, West-Side Story cum East LA style, got my friends and I to hold up cardboard signs spelling out "spitfire". We of course though this was great. You sat in front of us, displaying perfect skateboard observer sprezzatura, and proceeded to write funny and dirty things of our cardboard. I think you drew cocks too.
I've been a fan ever since.
Anyways, I'm reading John Gardner's "Grendel", a somewhat contemporary response to Beowulf. The term "whalecock" comes up on the second page: "I swim up through the firesnakes, hot dark whalecocks prowling the luminous green of the mere, and I surface with a gulp among churning waves and smoke."
Might this be where you saw the word? I wouldn't doubt that you have the intelligence to come up with the name on your own, without ever having to see it written by someone else, beforehand. Regardless, I am curious.
Well, thanks for you time, I'm sure you're busy trying out a new scent of Nair to rid your ass crack of hair with (I remember the raspberry scent hurt you), but if you could, let me know how it came about.
Fuck yeah, its good to write to you old man,
Alexander Munro
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the phrase whalecock literally leapt out of my mouth. i was being interviewed by a japanese fashion mag and the chick, in her broken english, wanted to know what was hot. i had been fucking with her the whole interview. so when she asked that, i said, “WHALECOCK. WHALECOCK CLOTHES ARE HELLA PUKE YO.” i told her that hella puke was how we said “cool.”
that’s where it came from.
the only thing close at the time was our friend O, guitar player for fluff, would say BIRDCOCK all the time. that may have had something to do with it.
i would immediately close a book that read “green of the mere.” -dave
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Yeah. He's a bit pretentious, but I think that is why I admired him during my teenhood; while other skateboard-magazine contributors tried to bring a semblance of insight to the sport (or art, whatever you like), Dave Carnie would rarely comment on that aspect. Rather, he would detail incidents with his cat, or his yearning to acquire Morissey to ride for Whalecock Skateboards. He's comfortable now I guess.
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