Stop the World and Let Me Off at the Corner

John L. (18 June 2019)

There is a rumor floating round about the Country Bear Jamboree at Disney World closing down and being replaced by some stupid Toy Story show. I doubt it'll happen, but knowing Disney, it seems plausible. Then again, the dude who wrote the rumor is notable for clickbait on #DisTwitter.

The 48 hours I didn't go on Twitter to enjoy Father's Day and the day after because I know how politicized it got in recent years between members of the far-left and the far-right ("why can't we have nice things?") is the day I learned about this.

I mean everything is political when you think about it and unfortunately you can't escape it. It's like a bad penny, so to speak.

Apparently, having blood on the saddle is now a no-no. The whipping of a bear called Buford is also a no-no. Oh and apparently this is a rumor on the heels of the impending 50th anniversary of Walt Disney World in 2021, so it could be totally unfounded, but there is a lot to this that can't be expressed in a simple tweet.

Anyway, it's all a wild world out there. I think that writers and artists are the only ones who can capture human nature in the same breadth as a psychologist or historian. I mean I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but a lot of things that don't offer an adequate explanation are easily answered by implied "coincidences" and theories.

On Father's Day, I went to Taco Bell before making the trip out to Phoenix and I filled my cup with Dr. Pepper because I figured it was a good day for a soda. It tasted flat and watery, so I changed it with Pepsi, which tasted a lot better. Knowing that there is a very professional relationship between Pepsi Co. and Taco Bell, it seemed probable that the Dr. Pepper was diluted to get people to drink Pepsi instead. I mean it's as understandable as the quandary that Walt Disney found himself in when it came to deciding which soda to sell at Disneyland in return for certain amenities (e.g. restrooms versus water fountains).

As per the DisTwitter controversies, it was conveniently posted on the tails of fan disappointment at Disneyland's Main Street Cinema being used as a merchandising location. I mean insert a rumor that the theme song to the Pirates ride being "too offensive" to victims of pillaging and plundering and insert a second rumor that evangelical Christians are offended by the "Satanic" imagery of the Haunted Mansion and Mr. Toad's Wild Ride and wish for it to be removed and you have a field day if you are a fan of getting people riled up. Though, it seems likely given the stupidity and humorlessness of the modern world that something that has been non-offensive for fifty years is to removed and replaced by something less great.

I hope our sense of humor never dwindles down to not allowing kids to sing about, say, Frosty the Snowman without a primer in gender politics or a lecture on the implications of reciting a memorable kids' song about melting snowmen. I mean if we lose humor and knowledge, then are we still human?

Then again, while those are plausible "the Onion becomes real" headlines, I wouldn't risk a total belief in the destruction of a Walt Disney World classic from the same guy who has produced articles on "insider rumors" about the replacement of the Living Seas and the Land at Walt Disney World's Epcot Center, which have been officially dismissed. I mean what does he take us for? Idiots?

That'll do it, folks. I am done...officially. Besides, the Japanese don't want to get rid of their classics, either. They wanted the pure Disney experience in 1977, 1983, and they still want that stuff in 2019. Should they deport the Country Bears, then I should whip ("no, not Little Buford") out my passport and make a visit to Tokyo Disneyland to see the show and enjoy myself.

EDIT: The rumors are true as of last year, but I urge everyone to write a letter to Disney to express your concern. After all, it helped give WDW a Pirates ride...

A Journey Through Time

No, this isn't another "Imagineering" proposal that I developed. Heck, I'm not even employed by Disney to pick up the trash, let alone be the creative force behind an elaborate attraction. Maybe, someday, but let's get on with the matter at hand.

It's history. History may be the study of the past to understand the present and it may be compartmentalized into specific subjects as well as having conflicting methodologies or approaches. After all, the Cynical Historian put up a video talking about the three major approaches to historical research and understanding. Check it out on YouTube. As per my channel, one wouldn't find the kind of historical analysis I've made on this site or elsewhere, but instead music, political rants, and social media challenges. Oh yeah, be sure to subscribe. 

Anyway, now that we got the formalities somewhat squared away, we must ask the question that everyone has about history.

"Why is it so boring?"

Ah yes, the common inquiry among non-historians (and rebel historians, of course), which can easily be refuted by the trump card of "history is a collection of stories that enrich us and contribute to our sense of self", but alas, that comes off slightly as an excuse for the orthodox methodology of national history where milestone events (even the tragedies) are glorified as a part of "building the modern nation". That was the common approach for several years and it has been challenged in recent years as it should be critiqued. 

So the research I've been doing is somewhat related to my theme park "research", as it pertains to the creation of themed environments. Instead of immersing visitors in a story for a ride, it'll be an enclave designed for living. However, that is a subject of a different article.

Though, the research has sparked an embodiment of what is described as "hiraeth", which refers to a nostalgia or longing for a home that one can never return or even a place that never was. That last part hit me. For clarity, I was born in the latter half of the 1990's and I am in my early twenties, so my sense of childhood nostalgia is confined to the increasingly-globalized world from 1997 to 2007. 

In my nostalgia research, I came to the bold conclusion that we are nostalgic for a world that we consider to be safe. A world where our childhood traumas seem lighter and less impactful than it really was. That's the "Hiraeth effect" because it is not only a setting (time and place) we can truly return (as in it's impossible to return to say Phoenix, Arizona, on Christmas 2007), but it is almost like hyper-reality when we think of it.

In fact, the fact that one can replicate a place in a certain time is what the theme park industry does with ease. For example, the 1974 souvenir guide to the Pirates of the Caribbean had a page on Caribbean Plaza at Walt Disney World, in which it's stated that Disney is adept at recalling places, even places that existed or at least places in a different time (with the "inauthentic authenticity"). Heck, even an authentic New Orleans from the 1850's would be unsafe, politically incorrect (I'm not using that as a pejorative in this context), and frankly uncomfortable (the first air-conditioner was invented in Chicago about thirty years later) to modern people, but then again these hyper real themed environments present a newer reality than, well, reality.

Ultimately, just like Paul McCartney, I long for yesterday, or at least the neon splendor and vapid consumerism of the 1980's with Epcot Centers, shopping malls on every corner, the hype of Miami Beach and Cancun during Spring Break, and the Trump lifestyle. Yes, before the Donald became the President or even before he did reality television, he was a rich man whose achievements in real estate had undoubtedly altered the landscape of Manhattan. Did I mention the synthesizer-driven music and MTV being all the rage?

Perhaps, I am a tad obsessed with history and studying the psychology behind nostalgia. After all, that obsession with history sparked such an investigation.

What I learned was that emotions tend to overpower reason in most cases. Formerly, I thought it was a personal or political response, but it happens under most circumstances.

Strong emotions are what great creators hit upon. For example, I actually thought the Pirates of the Caribbean at Disneyland was scary. It may have been a year or two or even three until I was begging my parents to take me on it, but my initial response was predicated on fear manufactured by the fact that a small boat ride at night took me deep into the earth to see skeletons, people shooting, and a burning city with such stark perceived threats. I thought I was going to die, whether it was in the form of a cannon ball hitting my head, a pirate shooting me, or being burned.

As I think about using physical spaces to induce a sense of "pastness", I would be remiss to not mention the fact that these environments would be more powerful from the point-of-view of a sentimentalist than a rationalist. Oddly enough, I fall into both camps, so it's difficult to differentiate between what I feel versus what I think in terms of the environment. If I had a Wild West boomtown, I would logically presume that if such a place was authentic, it would resemble a frontier town as understood by historians who are dealing with statistics, ephemera, and other relics versus the idealized western landscape of a John Ford movie or something in a theme park. However, a modern  "Western town" would be more in tune with my emotional response.

The interactive nature of a theme park like Disneyland or any other tourist attraction seems at odds with the intent of showing off ancient edifices and historical monuments in Europe where they do often have modern luxuries and safety regulations, but one must not interact with the content beyond being a passive audience member in a museum.

Ultimately, this brings a sense of longing to those who weren't there, but at the same time, it is not exactly an authentic representation of that setting.

A True Light Bulb Moment!

John L (15 June 2019)

Lighting serves a purpose in establishing a space. Too much lighting and the mood can be ruined. Likewise, too little lighting and the mood cannot only be ruined, but there are safety concerns. That's part of why businesses in the outdoor entertainment industry have lit up even what were supposed to be somewhat darkened areas.

In the context of the ideal setting (for me, it's a vapor-wave dwelling to bridge two distinct eras), the use of bold neon may appear to overwhelm the neutral shades, but it only delivers more of a surreal setting, especially if it's contrasted to black walls. That's why you feel strange in a room with mostly pitch-black walls and neon bright colors (even if this means there are no neon signs).

My favorite example of this is at a Mesa, AZ, bar called the Grid where the side room is painted black with bright orange tape forming a grid across the floor, ceiling, and walls under the subdued lighting (well, black-light). Talk about giving a second connection to the establishment's name. I mean it's trippy and it connects the elements of the nature (the vapor-wave nerd palace) of the bar with what we would expect as patrons (we are the big nerds). It reminds me of this unique diner I visited in San Diego during one of my visits, which had these decade-themed rooms ranging from the main 50's diner to the psychedelic 60's room, the 70's with disco balls, and the 80's with the, well, vapor-wave aesthetic. It also reminds me of my first trip to Walt Disney World back in 2007 because we stayed at this resort called the Pop Century Resort (we stayed in the 80's wing of the hotel), each with their own palette associated with the decades' style.

It seems as if we associate certain colors and lighting to a certain place and time. I can't help, but think of the lanterns in Cracker Barrel as being representative of lighting from a long, long time ago before electricity took off, especially in towns. I can't help thinking about how candlelight has long been the tradition and that some of the greatest works of antiquity up to the early 1900's were written with the aide of candlelight.

So what do you think? Do you also associate gas lamps with cities on the eve of electricity? Do you also believe color is a powerful tool in defining an experience or an environment, even if it's subtle enough not to notice?