MAMBO MANIFESTO

“If you’re not part of the solution – you’re part of the problem” Plastique Bertrand

The time has come to rise up and overthrow the profligate autocrats of surfing’s discredited and desperate hierarchy whose tyranny and ideology have a place only in the darkest corridors of the museums of history.

Through bloody and unremitting war shall we deliver the renaissance of popular surf culture from the bullioned vaults of the Industry Satans and their print nd retail running dogs who have defied the will of the people and have contrived, through greed and sloth, to promote orthodoxy and mediocrity throughout all aspects of style and surfing endeavour.

We shall journey through the cold desolation of culture’s winter, hacking at the lims of the fluro zealots who would praise Baywatch and quote Diesel, as we crawl towards the warmth and splendour of a new spring. We shall turn the beaches crimson with the blood of our enemies as they fight to repel us in their ‘armour’ smeared with a thousand transmutations of their company’s rotting, overexposed logo.

Our friends will be the apostles of Grundy and their tattoos will be free of spelling mistakes. Their wardrobes shall be full of Mambo vesture (as worn by our beloved, recently martyred Ces Wilson and by Jack Nicholson) and they will be passionate in their ridicule of bourgeois companies who would describe their products as HARDCORE.

In the fight to wipe out our enemies, we shall defeat their product in the market place with superior lifestyle graphics, drawn from the ink in our blood, and we shall question their judgement in offering clothing to morning TV presenters employed to give away money from the boot of a car.

The Mambo revolution shall be determined and will fear no sacrifice. Calamity shall temper and harden our resolve as we destroy popular culture in order to save it. We shall overcome hardship and exhibit a contemptuous disregard for fashionable truths, existing libel laws and contemporary standards of good taste.

We shall confront death one thousand times a day as we stand before the abyss of our enemies’ showrooms and challenge them to offer up an accessory not manufactured in Asia, despite much publicised claims to the contrary.

Inevitably, our enemies shall be defeated.

As paper tigers, they will be swept before the legions of our spiritual ally, HULK HOGAN (the man they love to hate) and despatched, brutally, to the dominions of insurance and second hand car sales.

Having painted with the cannon, Mambo shall finally abandon the artillery of war for the brush and floppy disc and rejoice in the glorious rebirth of surfings soulful past, forewarning all enemies of the future that what Mambo hath given, no man shall taketh away.