include elephants, hippos, rhinos, antelope, lions, gorillas and much more, roaming freely. Natural barriers for safety are nearly invisible.”
Incredible but true: Animal Kingdom is inhabited by real wild animals—not robots, not puppets, not holograms, not cartoons, but living and breathing creatures that (unless Disney starts tranking them) will eat, sleep, drool, defecate, regurgitate, sniff each other’s crotches, lick their own balls, and occasionally even copulate in full view of the tourists.
Unprecedented
is the word for it. Never before has Nature been granted an assigned role in any Disney kingdom; up until now, a fiberglass crocodile was the dream Disney crocodile.
Control has been the signature ingredient of all the company’s phenomenally successful theme parks; every thrill, every gasp, every delightful“surprise” was the product of clockwork orchestration. Once you paid your money and walked through the turnstiles, there was virtually no chance (until you walked out again) that anything unrehearsed would occur in your presence. “Nothing can possibly go wrong here, because nothing can possibly happen,” wrote Elayne Rapping in a superb essay in
The Progressive
. “The idea that nature might be ‘red in tooth and claw’ was utterly foreign to [Walt] Disney’s world view. But even more than blood, he abhorred dirt. Indeed, it is no accident that Disney’s central ambassador is a neutered, hairless, civilized rodent—by nature the filthy scourge of every slum in the developed world.”
Real vermin weren’t the only animals shunned by Disney theme parks. In 1988 the Orlando resort was infested by a squadron of black buzzards that roosted indecorously atop the Contemporary Resort and other photogenic landmarks. The birds are large, stoop-necked, foul-smelling carrion eaters, and their glowering presence was deemed disruptive of the Disney ambience. In particular, the vultures were drawn to Discovery Island, one of the few locations in the Disney domain where wild native birds were welcomed.
And the buzzards came on strong. They vomitedand pooped copiously, with no regard for the sensibilities of tourists. Equally dismaying were graphic reports that the buzzards were hassling the imported flamingos and preying on the helpless chicks of herons and egrets. Various methods were employed to frighten the aggressive raptors—flares, fireworks, helicopters—but the buzzards never left for long. Scores were captured and relocated far away, but it scarcely put a dent in the ever-growing Discovery Island flock.
Then, mysteriously, the birds began turning up dead. Accusations flew, and suddenly Disney—squeaky-clean Disney—found itself charged with shooting, starving, and even clubbing them with sticks. Sixteen state and federal wildlife violations were filed against Walt Disney World and several “cast members.”
Black buzzards are protected by U.S. law and are thus allowed to go pretty much wherever they choose. As odious as they might be to humans, the birds play a crucial ecological role as scavengers. A murdered buzzard was rotten PR for any socially conscious multinational corporation. As Peter Gallagher wrote in
Tropic
magazine: “From the carcasses arose one of the messiest scandals in the 19-year history of Disney in Florida.” Although the company disputed most of the animal crueltycharges, the ugly publicity didn’t abate until Disney made peace with the Audubon Society and donated $75,000 to a trust fund managed by Florida’s game commission.
To Disney executives, the buzzard incident soberly reinforced the idea that Nature is nothing but trouble. Wild creatures don’t get with the program. They’ve got their own agenda.
Yet ten years later, here’s Animal Kingdom. What made Disney change its mind about the zoo business? Money, of course. Tons of it was being made in central Florida by Busch Gardens, Sea World, and a host of not-so-slick competitors offering one attraction that
Incredible but true: Animal Kingdom is inhabited by real wild animals—not robots, not puppets, not holograms, not cartoons, but living and breathing creatures that (unless Disney starts tranking them) will eat, sleep, drool, defecate, regurgitate, sniff each other’s crotches, lick their own balls, and occasionally even copulate in full view of the tourists.
Unprecedented
is the word for it. Never before has Nature been granted an assigned role in any Disney kingdom; up until now, a fiberglass crocodile was the dream Disney crocodile.
Control has been the signature ingredient of all the company’s phenomenally successful theme parks; every thrill, every gasp, every delightful“surprise” was the product of clockwork orchestration. Once you paid your money and walked through the turnstiles, there was virtually no chance (until you walked out again) that anything unrehearsed would occur in your presence. “Nothing can possibly go wrong here, because nothing can possibly happen,” wrote Elayne Rapping in a superb essay in
The Progressive
. “The idea that nature might be ‘red in tooth and claw’ was utterly foreign to [Walt] Disney’s world view. But even more than blood, he abhorred dirt. Indeed, it is no accident that Disney’s central ambassador is a neutered, hairless, civilized rodent—by nature the filthy scourge of every slum in the developed world.”
Real vermin weren’t the only animals shunned by Disney theme parks. In 1988 the Orlando resort was infested by a squadron of black buzzards that roosted indecorously atop the Contemporary Resort and other photogenic landmarks. The birds are large, stoop-necked, foul-smelling carrion eaters, and their glowering presence was deemed disruptive of the Disney ambience. In particular, the vultures were drawn to Discovery Island, one of the few locations in the Disney domain where wild native birds were welcomed.
And the buzzards came on strong. They vomitedand pooped copiously, with no regard for the sensibilities of tourists. Equally dismaying were graphic reports that the buzzards were hassling the imported flamingos and preying on the helpless chicks of herons and egrets. Various methods were employed to frighten the aggressive raptors—flares, fireworks, helicopters—but the buzzards never left for long. Scores were captured and relocated far away, but it scarcely put a dent in the ever-growing Discovery Island flock.
Then, mysteriously, the birds began turning up dead. Accusations flew, and suddenly Disney—squeaky-clean Disney—found itself charged with shooting, starving, and even clubbing them with sticks. Sixteen state and federal wildlife violations were filed against Walt Disney World and several “cast members.”
Black buzzards are protected by U.S. law and are thus allowed to go pretty much wherever they choose. As odious as they might be to humans, the birds play a crucial ecological role as scavengers. A murdered buzzard was rotten PR for any socially conscious multinational corporation. As Peter Gallagher wrote in
Tropic
magazine: “From the carcasses arose one of the messiest scandals in the 19-year history of Disney in Florida.” Although the company disputed most of the animal crueltycharges, the ugly publicity didn’t abate until Disney made peace with the Audubon Society and donated $75,000 to a trust fund managed by Florida’s game commission.
To Disney executives, the buzzard incident soberly reinforced the idea that Nature is nothing but trouble. Wild creatures don’t get with the program. They’ve got their own agenda.
Yet ten years later, here’s Animal Kingdom. What made Disney change its mind about the zoo business? Money, of course. Tons of it was being made in central Florida by Busch Gardens, Sea World, and a host of not-so-slick competitors offering one attraction that
Similar Books
![Gale, Avery - Rissa's Recovery [The Shadowdance Club 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/555979/thumbs/152x264/gale-avery-rissas-recovery-the-shadowdance-club-3-siren-publishing-menage-and-more.jpg)
