Amusement parks turn people to drones

Amusement parks have, since the dawn of civilization, been available for the delight of every community imaginable. Birthed from the ideas of carnivals and fairs, it has grown into the beast that we know it today, resembling small cities hosting iron serpents and various other attractions.

But the irony ensues through the symbol being an antithesis of what it really represents, a somewhat desensitization of culture itself.

Disney had a vision of creating “lands” which would help stir the imagination of the patrons that visit. This was meant to allow these individuals to partake in different experiences throughout their visit; going from “future land” to “frontier land” exhibits a contrast in every aspect of life.

I soon realized that this was not indeed the backwash of Disney’s amusement parks. Instead individuals become mindless, disregarding all the fine details that Disney put in place, completely ignorant of their surroundings.

After coming back from Disney World, during the July 4th weekend, I was intrigued by the sociological mentality of the crowd. They are herded like cattle, mindlessly walking, pushing, and shoving toward their destination.

One by one, each hed swaying left to right, we walk to the same rhythm as if we were all being lead to an inevitable end. Walking down, everyone is bounded by steel cages that lead through long walkways, a maze for our senses.

The public no longer thinks while inside the vicinity, but instead succumb to the nature of it, our final destination of frightening endeavors. Fighting to become the first in line, there is no affinity to other human beings, but instead only towards the groups they are in.

Civilization as we know it crumbles and rots as we degrade to animalistic beings. Slowly as we inch forward, each individual becomes more tightly knit and familiarity no longer matters. Oblivious to their current status, until finally a glistening steel steed appears to take them away.

Our true selves come out while mounted on the track of any roller coaster. Anticipating the events to come, yet only able to sense and live for the moment. Once the cart is unleashed, our inhibitions are dropped and fear grabs us by our tails, unexpectedly. With nowhere to hide, our raw emotions shine for everyone to see. Sheer fright, enjoyment, indifference is casted, and we always lust for more devolved into what civilization has strived to avoid.

The corporation dehumanizes us, facilitating our tendencies to graze on the ideas of riding the next big roller coaster. Thrill seekers are no longer thrill seekers, but instead another statistic in their books. Every aspect of the park is planned, so we no longer have to think, no longer have to anticipate our fate.

Our humanity drops right as we lay our feet on the asphalt, suddenly and inevitably transformed into the monster that hibernates inside of us. I find that people no longer have empathy for each other, but only fend for themselves, and their direct subsidiaries.

With park prices increasing recently raising the admittance to each park, the new price at 80 dollars for a day, worth of musky sweat, harsh sunlight, and rude patrons does not tickle my fancy.

I find myself fighting to get my money’s worth also. I believe that I could easily receive the same treatment, if I wanted to, for free at any local public park. What is the method to this apparent madness we call amusement parks? Are we there living for the moment, in order to degrade ourselves into mere beings?

Why do we pay top dollar to mindlessly wander the pastures developed by amusement park giants? I ask myself these questions after each endeavor, waiting for a clue on what is truly fascinating about these stables.

While leaving the park, I see the same ritualistic mannerisms that consumed the ones that dared enter. Individuals marked after the exit of the park, as if branded for reentrance.

With the lingering euphoria, we exit as we had entered, funneled through wires into transportation that will lead us away, shipped back to our dwellings, leaving us with bewilderment and a blase attitude toward what they have ahead, lusting for more adventure. This desensitization has made me wonder why we always allow nature to rule nurture in these situations.