Saturday, December 5, 2015

Walking down the lane of sappiness.

I grew up with Disney. My favourite towel as a child was a pale blue terrycloth with the whole cast of Aristocats featured on it. I cried when my mother declared that it had gotten too threadbare and  ratty, and she transformed it into a gombal (Javanese for rag for wiping or foot mat).

When I was ten, I persuaded my father to buy me the VHS tape of Disney Halloween cartoons and proceeded to watch it every morning after sahur until it was time to get ready to go to school. I love me some dancing skeletons. I guess that explains my penchant for Goth motifs and dark thoughts.

One of the few nice things that the girl who taught me what a sociopath is ever did was lend me her Disney Cinderella picture book. She knew that I liked it and used it to manipulate me to do what she wanted. I'm cheap, you can bribe me with books. Yup, that also happened when I was ten.

During school holidays, the local television station would put up old Disney films catered for teenagers; a number of them featuring barely-not jail bait Kurt Russell. Truly wholesome stuff, with barely any nod to sexuality, unlike the current Disney fares.

But the only Disney song that I liked and could caterwaul along to is this one. My sister bought me the VHS tape of the film after my third form exam and I was enchanted. I think it was Beastly Prince's library that cinched the deal for me. Who cares about dancing candelabras and singing teapots when you have that biblio collection?

Anything after the Beauty and the Beast is met with sincere disdain. It started with Aladdin. That was around the time I became an absolutely insufferable hipster about music. They played the theme song on rotation until I was sick. Also because it was associated with a terrible time in my life. No, let's not go there.

I detested Pocahontas. I hated that they made it a romance. Hello? She was a child when she met John Smith. If they had anything romantic going on, it was child abuse. Not to mention that he brought her back to England to be paraded around like an exotic animal. She died of small pox in a foreign land, away from her people. That ain't a romance. That's slavery.

But what about Finding Nemo, asked some of my pals. It's a cute tale about a fish and his pals. Ellen DeGeneres is in it! You want me to believe that a saltwater fish survived the sewer system to get back to Daddy? Pull the other one.

I am okay with Mulan. I took my niece to watch Malefiecent (I kept looking at my phone throughout the film).

I guess I am a kind of an old coot.