who's that in that nasty car?

i will be the first to admit that the walt disney corporation is, indeed, a stalwart member of satan's legions. i will stand by that opinion until i die. what masquerades as good, wholesome family entertainment is little more than a series of extended commercials for products that are probably just going to splinter and kill little muffy anyway. or for the afflicted adults, trap them somewhere in a strange warp, where they are neither adult nor child nor grounded--adults with disney products (i'm talking about those with the fantasia collectors plates, the little mermaid statues or the embroidered donald duck shirts) strike me as hopelessly....well...middle america (and you know what i mean when i say middle america--the way i think about it, it's less a place than a state of mind)

BUT...

i have been reminded, rather painfully, of the fact that once upon a time disney was the cutting edge of entertainment. and it almost even delivered what it promised. i am thinking this because i have spent the last few days getting subjected to an endless loop of the opening sequence to cinderella. not by choice, mind you. this particular form of water torture comes courtesy of my roommate, who's in a play right now where he needs to spontaneously bust out into "a dream is a wish your heart makes." he doesn't know the song, and since he has no background in singing, he's asked me to help him.

weird, right? i'm someone's voice teacher.

anyway. having not been indoctrinated with this song since birth, he's having a little bit of trouble learning it. yes, ladies and gentlemen! once upon a time, before elton john became the patron saint of the uberbland, disney films actually featured songs that required effort! thought! some semblance of...something.

a far cry from the creamed rice they feed us today.

anyway. i don't really know where that rant went, exactly. i'm just feeling a little punchy because i'm so tired that i feel like i'm drunk.

ever have those mornings?

plus, there's a tiny little voice in the back of my head (i call it "evil psyche." you might have read my letter to it) that is rather worried that i'm about to lose my status as favorite redhead. which distresses me, because i'm really excited that other redhead is staying in new york, but i'm not ready to become favorite brunette or anything. or second favorite redhead. or third or fifth or whatever.

two more things:
1. this is my fiftieth entry.
2. read this now. fucking brilliant. this man knows how to Write with a capital Whoozieweehauken.