It starts with a gong! Then it cuts to a set of lines, stacked, about to break. Cut to a Buddhist running his hand over a series of prayer wheels, spinning them. Cut to a surfer running his hand along a rack of boards looking for the one he wants to ride, pulls it out, nice bright flash of logo. The brand gods will be happy. Cut to an old Russian Orthodox priest looking reflectively with his hands clasped on a walking stick. Cut to Ross Clarke-Jones pensively clasping his board in similar fashion, looking out at the macking surf. A Buddhist makes an offering before a huge Buddha. Cut to an underwater shot of a dude jumping into the sea on his stick. Cut back to the Buddhist, cut back to the surfer doing a duckdive in clean, clear, tropical water. Cut to Thai dancers as the music builds from steady religious chanting with gongs to an increasingly stonking drum beat. We cut to a surfer carving a perfectly drawn out turn. Cut back to the Thai dancers. We see Mick Fanning doing a beautiful roundhouse cutback in slow-mo. A 'tribal' dude on a beach spinning fire. Drums going berko. Mick boosts an air 360. Fire dude licks the flame. Unknown surfer pulls a sick floater, shot from inside of the barrel. Fire dude spins his flames. A Balinese drummer smashes the drum rhythmically. A perfect wave peaks and hurls. A Muslim holy man talks to the heavens arms outstretched. We look up into the cavernous insides of a large mosque. Some psycho is towing into flawless monumental Teahupo'o. Pan round the Jesus statue with his arms outstretched overlooking Rio. Catch a glimpse of the back of a Jaws monster. Cut back to the holy Muslim man reading the Koran. As he turns the page, we see the shape of the wave. Cut to the wave, curling perfection, unridden. Up comes the pay off line. 'What energy do you worship?'

Maybe you've seen it. A viral video produced by an energy drink brand, doing the rounds on Youtube and bouncing from inbox to inbox, clogging up bandwidth and making deskbound weekend warriors, surf wannabes and sad, gullible old farts like you all bleary-eyed and weak-kneed. Highly trained cynics like me just go: what a load of hype generating balls. Purpose built shmaltz (that's chicken fat to all you shmucks who don't know any Yiddish), thoughtless surf porn commotion. White noise. Drek. Designed to tug on your emotions and manipulate you. Whip you into a frenzy of amp and stoke and hopefully the brand gets to piggy-back those positive emotions to a happy, loving place deep inside your heart. But come on dude. Comparisons between religion and surfing are such old hat. Stinky old bergie hat that smells of vom and pish. We keep getting fed this cruddy old cliché of the Endless Summer, Gidget, The Search and Aloha. Hula girls and good times brah! It's patronising brah! Just another rendition of the same old kak marketing people have been using for years to pimp surfing wholesale to the mainstream and make bags of cash.

Sure, a lot of people have noticed the fanatical zeal that some of us focus on our surfing habit. Sure surfing is a fantastic thing to do with your life, that involves a slavish dedication to the flimsy dictates of ocean and weather. Sure surfing requires commitment and dedication. And sure the waves can measure up to the most pleasing and beautiful scenes and sensations available to us mere mortals waiting out our time on planet Earth. And ja, if you ride massive waves that can kill you - like Ross Clarke-Jones - then maybe, just maybe, you can claim that surfing is a kind of spiritual quest. Or a death stunt, for which you get handsomely rewarded. But really, most of us will never know what it is to tow into a 60 foot beast at Teahupo'o. Because we want to live. And for the rest of us - that's you and me bubba - our commitment to surfing can quite rightly be compared to that of a golfing enthusiast. They play every chance they get, but you don't hear about any soul golfers on the links. If this emotive shit was tried on other sports like tennis or athletics the howls of laughter would shut down entire advertising agencies. It's almost as bad as that awful bloody propaganda CGI Springbok ad - tonight we conquer - but I'll save that rant for another magazine. And if surfing is so spiritual, dude, why aren't surfers more spiritually evolved and wisened? Because let's face it, by and large we're a motley bunch of over-privileged, chest thumping alpha-males, passive-agressives and anti-social wide-ous ready to maim and kill one another for the next set wave. We're unfriendly to strangers. We abuse the weak. We're selfish pigs who hoard our spots and covet our waves. We take light and make dark. And sure the big secret about surfing is that it's really, really kif. But that secret is out. And this jive should be chucked into the box clearly marked 'shameless surf hype'. For the truth, my brothers and sisters, is that we already take surfing far too seriously.

Check out the third world for a bit of surf perspective. My taxi driver in Bali, taking one look at the coffin of boards I was tying to the roof of his Suzuki Katana says:

'Oh you from Sout Aprika! You like to play surping!'

Yes. I like to play surping. 'Play' being the operative word.

Don't go blow yourself up in the name of surfing now.

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