if every child chased dreams of societal reorganization in place of sweet wrappers and escape, then we would see mr cadbury's enlightened industrialism for what it really fucking is: social morphine – we'd have ourselves a pre-school army. walt disney is pushing social and sexual hierarchy, my bed-time stories like a gmtv gomulka. slumbering in my jimmy-jammies, my wondrous imagination long since closed and put away. willy wonka was a capitalist confidence trickster, a poster boy for neo-liberalism, a full-stop on revolt. and the bfg a propagandist for an unaccountable regime, orwell's vision with a wrinkled face. hold out the arm and quiet the voice. my first macdonald's visit a vaccination, like the time my parents took me to the school / clinic, and handed me over to the teacher / nurse / whatever. i too got sucked in by the myth machine. unattainable, but i just wish we weren't so fucking mindless. drowned in a recurring nightmare of causal influence. a little more suspicion in our fairy tales please. mum and dad, i'm sorry, i won't do what enid blyton told me. our jealousy at their opportunity: the once weak will one day rule this world. the monsters underneath the bed are merely jaded failings.
