Church Of Apathy

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Look Out Disneyland, Here Comes Realityland

Kids love to believe in fairy tales. Ask somebody under the age of eight what they want to be when they grow up, and they’ll likely say Fairy princess, wizard, mermaid, baseball player, doctor, or something else lying somewhere on the fringe of the reality scale between unlikely and completely impossible.

This is because kids are stupid.

Intelligence is accumulated through real life experience, so naturally young people don’t have much. Children depend on their parents to protect and shape their impressionable minds for the better during their formative years, yet instead of teaching them how the world really works, we allow their heads to be crammed full of fantasy and unbridled, unrealistic optimism for a future that could only exist in the mushroom induced delirium of the caged Indonesian teenager who received a second helping of fish head soup twenty years ago on the other side of the planet for hallucinating it in the first place, and so we set them up for a rude, traumatic awakening in their future.

Like a friend who would leave a drunken buddy to the mercy of a brothel full of card sharps and whores, we allow such abuse of our children, and we give the Disney Corporation a pretty steady flow of pretty pennies to dole it out. Why? because stupid kids whose stupid adult parents let them be brainwashed by Mickey Mouse grow up to be stupid adults who have stupid kids their own lack of accumulated intelligence prevents them from providing the resources they would need to escape the borders of dum-dumville.

There will be no such nonsense in Realityland, the non-amusement park I intend to build someday. In Realityland there won't be any teenagers dolled up as Snow White or Prince Charming making ten dollars an hour to walk around taking pictures and promoting false hopes. Instead, balding, irritable men and flabby, middle-aged women with practical haircuts dressed in sweatpants will roam the grounds introducing themselves to the children as their future spouses, or reasonable facsimiles thereof.

3-D theatrical encounters featuring Michael Jackson, Indiana Jones or the Little Mermaid will not be offered in Realityland – rather, two 90 minute long training seminars on the subjects of sexual harassment and corporate proprietary laws will be mandatory for all children entering the park to simulate the mind-numbing boredom of their future workplace. In addition, all youngsters participating in the motor car attraction stipulated on all tickets as a pre-requisite to exiting the park will be started simultaneously in bunches of ten to pre-create the drudgery of the thousands of daily commutes they’ll eventually make on our nation’s smoggy, congested highways.

Also, replacing Disneyland’s best known and least accurately representative attraction, the “It’s a Small World” gondola ride, Realityland will feature it’s own more realistic equivalent, “It’s a Sad World”, where children will be exposed to recreations of some of the world’s most miserable places during a gut-wrenchingly slow 30 minute boat tour showcasing starving, disease ridden orphans in Africa, browbeaten sweatshop workers in Southern Asia, the crime and drug infested ghettos of Rio, and the sheer hell of present day Baghdad, all set to a soundtrack that apprises them of the culpability of their government’s foreign policy and the complicity of their own glutinous lifestyles.

As far as merchandise is concerned, t-shirts, snow globes, personalized license plates and other inane tchotchkes will not be available in Realityland. Instead, rubber bracelets imprinted with the phrase, “Don’t Get Your Hopes Up” will be handed out free of charge to all patrons as they exit as lifelong reminders not to expect much from their sure to be dreary, generic existences.

Of course, I can’t say your day at Realityland will be cheap, but the investment in your kid’s future will be well worth it, and I can virtually guarantee they’ll never beg you to come back.