What Not to Do in the Magic KingdomSeptember 2, 2010
[Nothing like ruining things for others. It’s what makes blogging “virtually the happiest place on earth.” Originally published July 7, 2009.]
Disneyland is constantly referred to as “the happiest place on earth” and it’s easy to see why. The culmination of Walt Disney’s love of animation and copyright extensions have turned parts of California, Florida and France into a paradise for children of all ages (more specifically, children ages 5-12).
For parents though, the reality is a mind-numbing combination of these aspects:
- Watching your children in public
- Standing in line
- Dealing with other people’s children
- Blowing ridiculous amounts of money
Is it any wonder that five years down the road the kids are getting stashed at Grandma’s while the parents head to Las Vegas to blow the college fund on roulette and Wayne Newton tickets?
Disney Corporation runs a tight ship to ensure the magic happens for everyone. The evidence of their quality control is everywhere, from the scared shitless would-be actors cowering in their mascot suits to the numerous sequels cranked out year after year, turning beloved favorites into just another piece of the franchise.
If you are planning to blow the equivalent of a used car in one weekend, it just makes sense to be aware of the many words and actions, often used in panic or frustration, that will hasten your exit from the Magic Kingdom.
Educating other guests about Walt Disney’s Nazi-sympathizing.
Asking any black employees if they are part of the Song of the South exhibit.
Asking why there are so few black employees.
Exclaiming “But I can buy this shit anywhere!” while in the gift shop.
Playing “Spot the Penis” at every promotional poster.
Covering your children’s eyes every time Donald Duck’s pants-less ass waddles by.
Speculating on Beauty and the Beast’s pre-transformation love life.
Pointing out that the estate of the Brothers Grimm would be paved with gold, if there was any justice in the world.
Exclaiming “But I can get this shit free with any Happy Meal!” while in the gift shop.
Spending all day in the World of Tomorrow Internet cafe, gaming the exchange rate in an attempt to turn a profit on your Disneyland Fun Bucks.
Telling staffers “You should build one of these overseas. The French just eat this kind of cheerily overdone bullshit up.”
Composing fan fiction anywhere with the park boundaries.
Entering the park dressed in a homemade, anatomically-correct mascot costume.
Informing Kurt Warner and his family that only “Super Bowl winners” are allowed to go to Disneyland.
Wandering around the set of High School Musical 4in a black trench coat.
Handing out pamphlets entitled: Anthropomorphism: Hell’s “Gateway” Drug?
Turning the It’s A Small Worldride into your personal soapbox to decry the failure of multi-cultural assimilation and/or a geography lesson explaining just how large the world actually is.
Asking for directions to Jellystone National Park.
Challenging any mascot to a/an:
- Arm wrestling match
- Drinking contest
- Round of strip poker
Referring to every other attraction as an “affront to God”
Demanding to see the Jonas Brothers Genetic Imagineering Compound to “verify the status of replacement Jonas Brothers, who will be released in case of sexual indiscretion, substance abuse, removal of purity rings or post-pubescent ugliness.”
Stating publicly “Sigfried and Roy’s bungalow during a weeklong amyl nitrate bender? Now that’s the true magic kingdom!”
Forging Scrooge McDuck’s signature as co-signer on your auto loan.
Asking if the next Mouseketeer reunion will be only open to successful, non-infamous “artists” or will it just be Britney Spears and Annette Funicello making out awkwardly for five minutes, “like last year.”
Failure to cover your children’s eyes whenever a pants-less Daisy Duck waddles by.
Outing the park’s heterosexual employees.
Holding a press conference to declare that your newly incorporated town, Hannah, MT is owed back payment on merchandising royalties.
Referring to park employees as “carnies” due to their refusal to produce a certified “Imagineering” degree.
Messing with the thermostat.
Making pretentious small talk during the tour. For instance:
“Goofy and Pluto, while both dogs, possess a ruling class/working class relationship. At a cursory glance they may appear to be equals. Further study of the two reveals vast differences. Goofy has clothes and can talk. Pluto, representing the long-exploited working class, is both literally and metaphorically naked and speechless, stripped of his protection and validity by his powerful owner…”