Its 1965 version was only slightly more evolved, swinging back and forth between exoticism, like the piles of shrunken plastic skulls, sarcasm at how cheesy it all was, and attempts to produce actual, sincere awe. Which was tiki. Or at least the tiki Joe wanted to channel. Square pegs playing dress-up in what they imagined were round clothes. White dudes with severely parted hair hunched over with nervous smiles loosening up. The
