In 1967, Disney Imagineers invented the Omnimover. In this looping, continuous moving track system, vehicles rotate, controlling the rider’s viewing experience. The first attractions to use the Omnimover were Monsanto Adventure Thru Inner Space (the Atomobile) and The Haunted Mansion (the Doombuggy).

In The Haunted Mansion a female apparition is draped in a gown/shroud. Named by Imagineers Little Leota, she is the attraction’s final hologram, sing-song coaxing us to “hurry baaaaack” as we exit our Doombuggy and return to Frontierland. For some reason, Imagineers rendered this holo-vision 1/3 scale. I have always found her pale-perfect face and tiny figure kind of hawt! Is this because she “imprinted” me when I first beheld her at the hormonal age of 13? And today, which pervy fixation/fetish of mine doth this Goth Tinker Bell mini-cutie haunt? Jacques Lacan’s quasi-masochistic “Objet petit a” flips to Sade, like a Pleasure Daddy to yet another “little other.”  Girl A then Girl B then Girl C etc. pirouetting princess dolls whose limbs he longs to pin during sex. Beckoning but out-of-reach. Beheld yet unholdable.

In Fear of Kathy Acker (FOKA), narrator “Jack” has a freaky epiphany in Disneyland’s Monsanto Adventure Thru Inner Space. In his Atomobile, he confronts a looping crisis of the psyche. The one formed of compulsive lust and its elaborate rationalization, romance. Miniaturized, Jack also sees the hokey ride’s giant snowflakes as illusory constructs of the vast social order – language and culture. These forces, too, have frozen his personality, now melting like the ego in an acid trip. The Atomobile of self-examination peers into snowflake H2O molecules, revealing angsty urges for “the other.” It compresses galaxies of the self, liquified in deliciously stoopid yearning and salt-tart tears of love. His Omnimover directs his (male) gaze. Obsessions with unending & ascending levels of bodily erotomania grasp at infatuations, cycling more ultimately unknowable heavenly bodies into electron orbit. Pleasure Dom Daddy claims and clasps his subs with shiny eternity collars. In FOKA, as “my body drifts through matter like water,” new cuties revolve and dissolve under my desire-scope. And, years later, it seems I have learned very few lessons. As I write in Myth Lab, “I can’t prevent it. Or I don’t want to.”