Post #247449 by Basement Kahuna on Mon, Aug 7, 2006 5:40 PM

The fact is, A Cubic Zirconia is the Hope Diamond not. A Yugo is a Yugo. A Ferrari is a Ferrari. A lot of the crap/concepts on the market being referred to as Tiki just aren't. It's quality over quantity in this world for the best of life. The whole flower-power concept "Aww, man, who is anybody to judge somebody if that's what they dig and wanna call what they're into 'tiki'?, after all, man, it's about inclusiveness, and the love, right?". No. It's about inclusiveness only if you're w i l l i n g to be included...I.E. if you're willing to embrace an understanding about why the first few hundred folks came together around this site in the first place, long before it became the first couple of thousand.. This site was founded as a forum pertaining to and celebrating and preserving Mid-Century Tiki Culture, it's Polynesian origins, and it's re-creation in modern times. Period. End of story. Zip. Finis`. The bits and pieces of the genre laid out long ago, and already there for all to enjoy. Owning The Book Of Tiki (by far your best buy to self-educate) and as many other references to the genre, vintage or otherwise, as one could get their hands on was almost a prerequisite for being here; nobody thought twice about 90 percent of it because everybody had a clear picture of what Tiki is. Everybody was hungry to dig and learn. Everyboy was on the same sheet of hapa-haole music. Then, alas, (getting figurative here) said the lion tamer to to the ringmaster "Have you noticed a lot more clowns in the circus lately?" Somebody yelled "PARTY" and along came the club culture/spring breaker/frat boy goofballs, the "Ah don't know Tiki fer art but ah know what ah like, dood...Polernisian is kewl but ah monna live what ah like ta live/do what I like to do and stamp it tiki anyway, ya know?" crowd, the Buffetteers, the Jeff Spicoli/Bill and Ted crowd, the (shutter) corporate cash-in creeps, and the usual crop of back-patters, ass-kissers and "everything is beautiful" dooh-dahs that follow all of the above ilk around tossing ladles of milk and honey on the turdfield. None of whom care to dig any deeper or explore a lick about what vintage Polynesian Pop culture, Polynesian art and the American Idealistic visions of South Pacific island life that spawned Tiki. Learning something (or really caring about it) might interrupt the boob show, and what self-respecting mouth-breather would want that? Hence a lot of the more true believers became rather invisible due to frustration. Sad. It really is a cool place if you get beneath the layers of sludge to the pure water. Fact is: This isn't a mass-acceptance, open door PC party for every type of counter-culture and art that wants to creep in and mooch all of our expensive liquor. This is a Tiki site. This is, in fact a private club. The password is: tradervicbergeronstevencranebobandjackthorntonleroyschmaltzelihedleydannybalszdonnbeachedcrissmanmilanguankowilliamwestenhavermichaeltsaomarvinchinraybuhenkenkimesetcetcetc. Learn it. Learn not only it, but all about it. Alas..The door slides open, you are greeted by the maitre-de, a lovely girl places a lei around your neck, and you are seated for the Polynesian floor show, and your first drink arrives..a Zombie...nice. Perfect color, fresh mint...Ahhhh...Yep...That's Donn's Recipe alright! Crab Rangoon and Rumaki with white glove service. A light hint of an Augie Colon bird call dancing in your ear "Man...this REALLY IS better than Tiki Bob's Cantina!"