The past few days, I’ve been at home battling a cold. The only thing that has eased my sniffles, aches and fever – besides and onslaught of over the counter drugs, including my new BFF Nyquil – has been season 2 of Desperate Housewives. (You’re probably wondering what this has to do with Disney, but trust me, I’ll get there I promise)
I used to scoff at my cohorts who every Sunday night would anxiously wait for the clock to strike 9 in order to lose themselves in the mystery, drama and trashiness of Wisteria Lane. Eventually, I too wholeheartedly joined the Desperation club and have been catching up on past episodes ever since. Today however, the episode entitled “There’s Something About a War” triggered that old familiar feeling of horror and mild disgust I used to experience in my days as a DH critic. Here’s what happened:
Gabbie (Eva Longoria Parker) in an attempt to save her marriage confronted the nun, Sister Mary Bernard, whom she felt was stealing her husband. A few choice words were exchanged between the two ladies and before you could say “Hail Mary”, they were rolling around on the floor of the church, beating the bologna out of each other. This epic battle culminated in the final act of Gabbie pushing the nun into a table of holy candles, causing her to go up in flames.
As the episode drew to a close, I felt guilty for what I had just seen. I know its just a TV program, but lighting a nun on fire…I felt like they had crossed the line and I had willingly gone along on the flaming ride of sacrilege. I shamefully sat through all the credits, and just when I thought DH had earned a place on my banned for life list, it was saved by a simple white castle on a magical blue background – the Disney stamp of approval. Seven magic words – Distributed by Buena Vista International Television © Disney – has dispelled my fears and convinced me that DH is an acceptable viewing choice. Gone were the feelings of shock, contempt and shame. That white castle had purified my sullied image of DH and everything was once again right in the world.
To all of my nun friends – my sincerest apologies – but for me, the castle somehow makes everything okay. One might say I’m easily swayed, a flip-flop or even naïve, but if Disney is willing to slap the castle of approval on it, then I’m okay, even when it comes to a Sister being somewhat singed. What is it about the Disney stamp of approval that erases my sense of discernment and ability to think critically? Is the magic so strong that I truly lose my sense of right and wrong? Will the day ever come when those seven little words and a simple white castle lose their ability to wipe the slate clean? Probably so. But for now, with Disney’s stamp of approval, I’m heading back to Wisteria Lane and probably to a couple of other things I should think twice about.