That's me flipping the bird at Cinderella's Castle in the Magic Kingdom in June 2008.
I knew there was something hinky about the whole damn place as soon as we drove onto the grounds. Disney World is like an otherworldly cartoon prison colony. You enter the land of the Mouse and the "action" is buffered by a desolate necklace of undeveloped land. No streets, no convenience stores, no people. No nothing until you get close to the Magic Kingdom and then it's all Disney. If you think you're going have a little stroll off grounds to take in some local color, forget it. You're in Disney and you're going to eat, breath and sleep Disney exactly as Disney thinks you should until you leave Disney.
Shit's plain weird.
Turns out my totalitarian depiction isn't that far off. T. D. Allman illuminatess my cynical observations in his explanation of, "the approach that to this day allows the Disney organization to avoid taxation and environmental regulation as well as maintain immunity from the U.S. Constitution," in an excerpt of his new book, Finding Florida, for The Daily Beast.
A couple select quotes from the link:
"The posthumous Walt Disney, like the mechanical Andrew Jackson in the Hall of the Presidents, had joined Mickey, Donald, and the Sorcerer's Apprentice in that special world where it doesn't matter whether you're real or not."
"Disney and his successors pioneered a business model based on public subsidy of private profit coupled with corporate immunity from the laws, regulations, and taxes imposed on actual people that now increasingly characterizes the economy of the United States."
Dear Mickey Mouse:
If you have your ears on somewhere out there, behold the five-year-old photo of my commentary on you and your environs above. My position remains unchanged. Go to hell.
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