Dear “House of Mouse,”
Congratulations, pandering liberal Jews, you’ve shown your asses yet again.
I speak, of course, about your upcoming remake of The Little Mermaid, the latest in your descent into retelling the same stories again and again like my demented war criminal grandfather.
But my complaint with you today isn’t political. Nor is it racial in nature.
I’ve come to call about your indifference to the continued marginalization of a minority you people would prefer not to have to think about…
White men.
Specifically, those white men who are, shall we say, not traditionally attractive.
Let me ask you, good sirs…
When will I get to see someone who looks like me in your films?
Is it really so hard to create an animated character with skin color like mine, when I have no pigmentation to speak of?
Is it really such an imposition on your animators to draw a real man? I’ve read a veritable library’s worth of How to Draw books in preparation for my rise to comic book stardom. I know that all it really takes is 2-3 oblate circles for the head and torso. Also arms and legs of some sort. I am a simple figure and anyone truly versed in the graphic arts understands that beauty lies in simplicity.
Would it be that challenging to capture the breeze winding lazily through a beard kept fastidiously confined to the neck? To trace the fertile fields of virile, all-natural mutton chops? To immortalize the gentle undulating of dark shoulder-length hair?
Is researching what’s trending in fedoras really too much to ask, when, by their very nature, they’re timeless in both design and appeal?
I can answer all but the first with one word I’ve heard far too often, but sense you have not heard nearly enough: “No.”
And the most egregious part is that you’ve had every opportunity to make amends, but it was so much more important to send out virtue signals like an overly talkative “Native American” instead.
Look upon your works, social justice warrior cucks, and despair!
There is no doubt in my mind that your famed Imagineers could have turned their attention to this remake of The Little Mermaid and produced something that was ahead of the curve since for the first time since Walt lost all that money on Fantasia.
Obviously, it would make no sense to cast a man like myself or even an effeminate metrosexual in the titular role of the little mermaid. Mermaids, as the name would imply, are female. Female, and this is probably new information for you, so pay attention, is the opposite of male.
However, according to legend, there do exist such things as mermen. The Sexy Merman. Why not make that film? The only answer is “fear.” Probably also “hate.”
And that, good sirs, is unacceptable.
If you were concerned about marketing a movie to children with “sex” in the title, you could call it The Realistic Merman. Seeing it written out like that, I realize now that this is more an oxymoron than a title. Well, that’s why you have a marketing department. (Please find attached my application to become director of the marketing department.)
Given that The Little Mermaid traditionally centers around a young female mer-person, there are a number of story elements that would require adaptation. To wit, the central conflict of the main character wanting to be human in order to live with the man of her dreams. True, Prince Eric was like a statue of Adonis that came to life as a two-dimensional line drawing, but filling this role with a comely young lass would be more tonally consistent.
Perhaps you could call her Chastity LaRue.
When we first meet the lovely Miss LaRue, she will have been spending her days and nights pining for a man of class and distinction to come exploding into her world like a testosterone cannonball fired by a Spanish lust galleon.
“M’lady,” the virile merman says.
Then Chastity puts the back of her hand to her head and says, “I must be dreaming!”
And the merman cocks an eyebrow and replies, “‘Tis no dream.”
Another option would have been to have her be the she-captain of a ship of sexy lady pirates, all of whom were utterly unable to resist the aquatic charms of the merman. You could have tried both, if you cared.
As all great tales require conflict, I believe the villain from the 1989 film could have been easily adapted for modern audiences. A soul-sucking sea hag would be particularly relevant in an era when, try as we might, we have yet to escape the ghastly tentacles of Hillary Rodham Clinton.
The climax, then, should have centered around the merman wresting control of the ship from the terrified and ineffective women who had come to see him as something of a “great white savior.” Undisturbed by the unsightly and politically repellent femonstrosity, the merman could use his impressive brain to create a steam-powered harpoon launcher, enabling him to pierce Ursula/Hillary’s reptilian heart with a satisfyingly wet sound effect. (This is what literary people call “a metaphor.”)
Then, when the wretched sea hag was at last vanquished, the skies were cleared, and the seas calmed, the merman could tip his fedora and say, “Owned.” (This would have been ideal for the trailer.)
Lastly, since you people never miss an opportunity to pad out a film’s run time with exposition dump songs written, composed, and/or performed by a number of gays, I would have gladly taken the liberty to deliver a soundtrack. My songs would have centered around Flounder being a beta who deserved to wind up at Long John Silver’s and a merry but educational ditty where the merman explained to Sebastian that he’d wasted his life perpetuating a flawed economic system in hydro-feudalism. (Please note that I am not myself gay, just rhythmic.)
But, alas, this is but a glimpse of what could have been, the world we could have created.
Instead, tykes will be drug to the theaters by their aging hipster parents to have their imaginations cruelly chained to an inexplicable mermaid no one needed nor wanted. They’re the real victims here. Well, them and my childhood… which you have raped beyond all recognition.
I hope you’re happy.
I am not.
I will, however, begrudgingly accept condolence tickets to your capsized oil tanker of a Little Mermaid remake so that I may review it on my YouTube channel.
Yours in Christ,
Chad Leary
Area Shut-In
