Golden Greats

Martin Denny

It is precisely when our nomadic global culture appears hopelessly shipwrecked that we must beware of false Tiki prophets. Vincent Price’s Professor Whitehead notwithstanding, we will know our authentic purveyors of the One True Faith by their refinement and illumination. They will comb our streets in custom ice cream trucks chiming “Quiet Village” (and, if we’re lucky, “Black Orchid”) while dispensing the wisdom of Zombies and Mai Tais. Their shirts will exhibit no pretenses, and 3D-printed tabus will grace their dashboards and stoops.