Disney, you fucked us up.

30 Dec

If, every morning, my every need were attended to by wild birds and a pack of domesticated rodents I’d definitely be considering a relocation. If not that, then at least my health and mental well-being. The likelihood of a small flock of birds drawing a bath for me is slim to none, and I definitely wouldn’t want to these days with cross-species Avian Flu transmissions surely imminent. But evidently this wasn’t a concern for Cinderella in her fairytale kingdom, circa 1950.

Good ol’ Walt Disney sure knew how weave a false dream for thousands of kids around the world. And somewhere within the messed-up mental machinations of these youth, this fantasy was somehow internalized, only to return in years to come as fetishes not so benign. Or so Freud’s idea of the uncanny goes. If those friendly forest creatures aren’t prepared to pamper you when you get up and strip down every morning, then why not put them to some better use?

Like wearing them perhaps?

Better eat the snake before it eats you.

The just back from a trip to the wildlife reserve look. Or…

(Queen of) trailer-trash Yo-landi Vi$$er, or Gaga and that meat dress.

But everyone like so swing a bit of meat around in the name of outlandish fashion.

Then there are the crazies for whom the images of childhood are re-expressed in really fucked up ways. Example one, someone with a killer-whale-gimp fetish.

My my, Ariel sure did succumb to the ravages of  a high-fat American diet after she gave up swimming to become a breeder with legs on land.

There’s something oddly similar between her and Chinese artist Yang Maoyuan’s work too, who goes around inflating taxidermy animals.

If I had the appropriate air pump to do this, I’m sure I’d do this too.



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