The reef scene’s gotten weird. Somewhere along the way, we decided that corals needed last names — “Dragon Slayer” “Rainbow Envy” “Angry Whatever” Half of them are clones with new filters. I’m not here for it anymore.

I’ve been around enough imports to know what’s real and what’s marketing. The truth? Most “named” pieces start as wild colonies pulled from Indo or Aussie reefs, cut up, sold, and renamed until nobody remembers what it actually was. Everyone’s trying to be the next OG, chasing labels instead of growth. That’s not reefing — that’s retail cosplay.

Imports Are All About Potential

When I bring in a box of Indo SPS, I’m not buying finished pieces — I’m buying potential. Raw, unpredictable, untamed potential. Some come in brown, some pale, some already glow — but they all have one thing in common: they’re unknowns.

That’s the beauty of imports. You don’t know what they’ll become until you stabilize them, lock in your parameters, and give them time. It’s like opening booster packs, except the outcome depends on your skill, not luck. I’d rather gamble on potential than pay for someone else’s Photoshop job any day.

The Lookalike Game

Here’s what nobody wants to admit: 80% of the “rare” corals floating around are just variations of the same few species — different farms, same DNA. You stabilize a new import under your system and suddenly you’ve got something that looks 90% like a “named” piece selling for triple the price.

That’s the fun part for me — finding those lookalikes that perform better, color harder, and cost half as much. You don’t need the brand name. You need the eye for what a coral can become once it hits peak form under real care.

And the whole “let’s slap our ™ initials in front of every coral” thing? Hard pass. Prefixes don’t grow polyps. They just grow price tags.

Hype Doesn’t Build Reefs

Collectors flex names. Reef builders flex growth. The difference between the two? One is buying status, the other is earning results.

I don’t chase hype anymore. I chase performance — color retention, growth tips, polyp extension. That’s what lasts. That’s what fills vault racks. That’s what pays for the next shipment.

Because at the end of the day, when you turn the whites up and look at your reef in raw light — filters gone, hype stripped — you’ll know if you’re building something real or just renting it.

Respect Where It’s Due

Let’s be real — some names are burned into reefing history. Walt Disney, Homewrecker, RR Jawdropper — those built the hype era. They earned their spot because they were true standouts, the kind that changed how people looked at coral color and genetics.

I still reference those names when I list or talk about lookalikes. Not because I’m chasing the hype, but because it’s how reefers speak the language. Everyone knows what a WD or HW looks like — it’s a visual shorthand, not a sales tactic.

But the new wave of naming? The triple-hyphen, emoji, trademark parade — that’s where it lost the plot. Every “store-initial” prefix slapped in front of a coral feels like a joke that got out of hand. It’s not identity, it’s noise.

On my site, the names exist purely for coral ID and representation. They help you find what you’re looking for, not believe in some fake hierarchy. If a coral earns a name someday, cool — but it’s not getting one just because someone needs to feel important.

My Rule

If a coral makes me stop mid-tank, it stays. If it glows because someone said it should, it goes. The vault isn’t about names — it’s about results. The imports that survive my systems earn their place because they proved themselves, not because someone trademarked a color shift.

That’s what I’m building here — not hype, not noise — just heat from the deep. The kind that glows even when nobody’s naming it.