After Corbu

I have been to Disneyland three times.

First, as a child, an experience I do not remember. I am told I sat down in the parking lot and declared I was going to die if I had to walk any farther. My hatred for parking lots started early.

Second, as a teenager to participate in the drunken debauchery all-American good time that is Grad Night.

Third, as a college student, to read Baudrillard and debate the phenomena that is The Happiest Place on Earth. Pretentious? Yes — but we were self-aware enough to crack jokes at our own elitism. Does that mitigate?

I actually think the last trip was the most rewarding, as why just appreciate a thing for itself when you can do that and take ironic pleasure!  All this as lead up to Baudillard and the Magic Kingdom, my weird internet find of the day that somehow manages to make am inaccessible theorist interesting.