Those of you avoiding #BuzzLightyear are doing the right thing. I saw it in a theater last night and I’m still processing my horrifying experience.
The kiss was all I feared: a brutal assault on innocence and freedom, in the form of a playful moment of affection between two adults in a loving relationship. I threw soda on my children to distract them.
Everyone in the theater screamed, having been made aware of the existence of gay people. As a parent, it’s my duty to shield my children from all things in the world I don’t enjoy; I had failed them.
Then the film froze. It was rewound, the kiss played again. And again. Then in slow motion. Then in slow motion with the Indigo Girls ‘Power of Two’ playing underneath it.
The house lights came up and a Disney marketing executive walked out from behind the screen with a clipboard. “Hello, children! What did you think of what you just saw?”
The kids were already radicalized. “I want to destroy my gender-identified toys and send the debris to Pixar as tribute.” “I thought I liked baking, but now I’m applying Early Decision to Mount Holyoke.” “This movie made me hate Tim Allen and my own penis.”
The children were led out of the theater and loaded into Subaru Outbacks [one child: “It’s like they made a car out of being gay!”] to bring them to the Pride Re-education Compound near Oakland.
My own kids didn’t even look back. I sat alone in the theater, ruined. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a drag queen came out & started reading ‘Goodnight Moon’.
Save yourself and stick with Toy Story 2, where the only lesbian message is “sometimes your girlfriend breaks up with you and you obsess about it through folk music for the rest of your life.”
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