Archives for posts with tag: icons

I guess it really is Fall. I guess it’s Autumn. I guess this happens every year. But this elephant always forgets.

I am a sucker for Dumbo’s eyes. and Pinocchio’s.  I guess the thing they have in common, besides/because of the whites of their eyes, is that people want to exploit them as performers. In the circus, Dumbo has to dress up like a clown baby and stand in the window of a burning building. Top floor. While a bunch of fire department circus clowns “rescue” him. A clown dressed in elephant mommy drag histrionically screams “my baby! my baby! save my child!”  while Dumbo’s real mom is shackled to the inside of a car on the circus train. The car is labeled: MAD ELEPHANT. At the end of the act, Dumbo jumps out of the window (correction: he’s pushed and made to look like he jumps) to land on one of those fire department canvas landing pads. But the canvas is a facade. He falls right through it into a pool of whipped cream.

This sounds fun to me.  But you can tell it’s not fun for Dumbo.  He’s humiliated and scared.  The clowns/ringmaster were sort of banking on that feeling. They knew that’s what was thrilling about the number for the audience. the humiliation and the fear.

I feel very Phantom of the Opera fantasy mask about it. Like part of me is the ringmaster and the other part is Dumbo.  I can get into humiliation. I usually learn a lot about what my fucking problem is.

Tonight I’m going down to Occupy Wall Street for the first time.  So are a big group of Marines.

I was on gchat with Max earlier today.

“Wanna get coffee?” is what i said to him. He said he was blogging. Then he could get coffee. It reminded me of this blog. Of the feeling you get when you blog. I think it’s what Virgina Woolf was talking about when she wrote A Room of One’s Own. It is that room for 21st century folks who weren’t born into money.

Tying bricks to your arms and legs and walking into a river is the inverse of the problem that Ariel had in The Little Mermaid. I guess it cost both of them, Virginia and Ariel, their voices. But If Ursula was Ariel’s sea witch, then who was Virginia’s land witch? The only person who can answer that is Walt Disney. Since he is deceased, I am going to ask this nun, Sister Dominica, my Aunt’s best friend, who passed away in her sleep on Thursday if she could talk to Walt about it.

It’s about knowing the right people.