putting the end in trend.


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dateline:
hamilton underground
15 july 1996
7:09 p.m.
The sure sign that something is dead is when the media declares it hot stuff.

Coming in to work tonight there were piles of "Honolulu Weekly" to kick through by the entrance. Now generally it's a great rag -- anything with Akbar and Jeff is above par -- but I had to smirk at the cover story, "Industrial Arts."

"Take a trip to Honolulu's gothic/industrial club scene and S/M community -- where fetish and fantasy reign supreme!"

At right, a latexed and collared chain-wearing dominatrix. Inside, a rundown of the local "scene" and an interview with "Mistress Bleu."

The fact that there was a list of clubs and theme nights was proof enough of what my friends and I have been saying for a while: the magic is gone.

Two years ago there was just one event, "The Dungeon." Held in a warehouse in total violation of fire codes, everyone there was a genuine freak (in a good way, of course). You found out about it by reading telephone poles.

Those were the days. Tetsuo Shima movies playing on the walls, Sisters of Mercy throbbing from the speakers, smoke from a plethora of questionable sources choked the air, and outside crowds gathered to watch the occasional piercing (Gus, by the way, I highly reccomend -- he's at "Submission" on Kapiolani).

Folks in the most exotic of dress (and undress) wandered around while the more daring accosted eachother on platforms or crosses and hung eachother from the wall for the hell of it. The first night I went, one girl was standing on a bench making small cuts on her belly with a knife. She was fingerpainting with her blood... or at least I think she was.

Jen freaked, but even she was intrigued in a way. Back then there was an art to it, an earnest -- if not disturbing -- ideology. My friend Wayne invited us. At the time he was a rope performer, and while some who were there saw it as a big play, he and his partners took it very seriously.

As with any good thing, pop status ruined it -- and fast. By the third or fourth Dungeon, it was mostly a costume party. Even in this ad they put in the Weekly, they brag "over 1,000 people came to the last one!" That sucks. Especially since the crowd is mostly military thugs who come, drunk, to get their thrills.

No one I respect has been to one of these things for months; Wayne started (then gave up) on a private dungeon outfit. Though I still go to browse at Gus' sometimes, I've mostly lost faith in what the goth crowd has become here.

You know, so many things would be much more cool... if only less people knew about them.


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