Paolo Kernahan

SO MANY people keep saying the Carnival is dying. I don't think it's dying. It's just becoming something else - something that looks like a pumpkin-vine relation to its former resplendence. In the words of one dissatisfied customer, "It wasn't as vibsey!"

Others vented on social media about the soaring costs of participating in the melee. Many arguments inferred the emergence of economic apartheid "in de cyannival." Bands and event promoters stand accused of intentionally purging the mas of the masses. One woman used the term white supremacy, which seemed a bridge too far.

Wendell Manwarren, rapsonian and titan of the arts, was captured in a frank expression of disgust about the changing face of Carnival. He alluded to the growing trend of segregation and bemoaned the roping off of our cultural identity so some could identify as more equal than others.

It's tragic because we're already riven with divisions along racial, socio-economic and political lines. Carnival used to be the one force rendering those lines porous, bleeding different social strata into one.

There are some residual aspects of this once-dominant ethos. The unifying, gravitational pull of Panorama remains. All within its influence, regardless of ethnicity, or income bracket, are called to celebrate one of the highest arts and expressions of raw genius this country ever produced. The steelpan is more than a mere instrument; it's a spiritual tuning fork.

With that said, we must face the music. It's part of human nature to crave separation; to feel apart and above others. Carnival isn't immune to such proclivities. Even among those who pay top dollar for recognition as members of the perceived cream of society, some pay a bit more to be one tier above.

You bought your platinum pass but seeing others with diamond passes makes yours look like a brass pass. Must do better next year. Too many peasants in the exclusion zone.

Much of the swing towards exclusivity is led by consumers. Entrepreneurs see new ways to make money by reading the temperature of the market. Some folks have spoken pejoratively of the fashion show-cum-Carnival fete trend. There's usually an endless parade online of people preening in front of photography backdrops draped in ghastly dinner gowns. In the case of men, it's the gaudy, undersized shirts. These premium events, though, are typically sold out.

All this pompous pageantry feels anathema to the cultural underpinnings of Carnival. The masquerade was born out of mockery of the colonial elite by the once enslaved. Now the elite mock the re-enslaved. The circle is complete.

How do the masses take the power back? It was suggested in the radio chattersphere that the Soca Monarch product, a festival of the proletariat, should be revamped.

To even utter this is to steups in the face of history. International Soca Monarch was a resounding failure suckling on state largesse for decades. As I wrote some time ago, that show couldn't depend on private businesses for survival. Money follows