I’m Breaking Up with Disney

Once upon a time, Disney was pure magic. Now it feels more like a corporate breakup — overpriced tickets, hollow remakes, and the magic traded for marketing. In this brutally honest and sarcastically heartfelt episode, Steven Daniel finally calls it quits with the Mouse.

From nostalgic childhood memories and overpriced churros to the cult of Disney Adults and the empire of endless sequels, this isn’t just a rant — it’s an autopsy on the “Happiest Place on Earth.”

Join Steven as he laughs, vents, and reflects on what went wrong with Disney — and what it might take to fall back in love again.

🎧 Buckle up, Out of Placers. This one’s part therapy session, part roast, and part love letter to the dream that used to be.

Chapters

• 0:00 Intro Skit
• 2:04 Intro Song
• 2:53 We Need to Talk Disney
• 22:20 Outro

Transcript

Untitled - October 23, 2025

00:00:00 Speaker: Okay. Okay. I need silence. I'm about to go live. This is the seventeenth time I've cried in front of the castle, and I want it to be authentic. You don't get it, Jordan. This place is sacred. I met goofy here last year, and he held my hand. I felt the spirit of Walt Disney flow through me. It was a spiritual awakening. I even got his his autograph tattooed on my ankle. You're so cynical. This is the happiest place on Earth. I needed that spot. I'm filming a reaction video to the fireworks my followers expect. Tears. It's about the magic, Jordan. The nostalgia, the joy, the. You're ruining the vibe. I'm here to relive my childhood. You just don't understand. This is my personality now. So what should I do? Wow. It's actually kind of beautiful. nothing says authentic like a ring light and a mic pack. that was probably just a guy in a costume trying to guide you away from the churro guard you were sobbing into. You mean the guy who signs goofy four hundred times a day with a Sharpie? That guy. Tell that to the toddler you just body checked trying to get to the front row for the parade. He still spinning like a teacup. You have twelve followers. One is your mom. The other is a bot that keeps asking if you want free Disney pins. twenty eight dollars turkey leg and three hour wait for a ninety second ride. You're thirty four. Your childhood called. It wants his dignity back. No, Melissa. It's a theme park, not a personality. You don't need to cry every time you see a teenager in a mouse suit. You don't need to live stream the queue line. And you definitely don't need to shove a stroller to get the newest popcorn bucket. Put the phone down. Watch the fireworks with your actual eyeballs. Let the kid behind you see the parade. Eat the Disney pretzel like a normal person and maybe, just maybe, enjoy the magic without turning it into a documentary. yeah, life tends to be when you're not watching it through a screen. We need to talk. It's not me, it's you. Disney. We've been together a long time. Decades. Really? I defended you through the sequels, the price hikes, the live action remakes nobody asked for. I even looked past that six dollars churro that tasted like betrayal. But lately, every time I see you, I feel nothing. You changed. I remember when you made me feel. When a castle on a screen could make me forget I was the broke kid. Eating McDonald's fries in the back seat. When magic didn't mean I needed a lightning lane mortgage. But now the only spark I feel is the static from my credit card when it's declined at the gate. Welcome back. Out of placers. Today's episode is a tough one. I'm breaking up with Disney, the company, the brand, the empire that used to make me believe in imagination because I've reached my limit. And maybe, just maybe, you have too. Let's rewind. I used to be a Disney superfan. I knew every lyric, every obscure trivia fact every hidden Mickey I cried at parades. I planned trips like military operations. I once told someone, Disney is my personality and I meant it. I grew up in South Florida. Disney was only a few hours away. But back then it felt like a whole other world. we packed into the car with snacks and cheap hotel coupons. No Genie Plus, no mobile app reservations. Just raw excitement in whatever cassette was stuck in the tape deck. It wasn't about money. My mom and my stepdad would light up like kids themselves. We didn't care if we stayed in Holiday Inn or Days Inn or Howard Johnson. I mean, back then it was a little bit nicer than what it is today, but we didn't care where we stayed, what we ate as long as we got to see that sign. Welcome to Walt Disney World. It was worth it. I learned the Orlando area like a second home. I was the kid with the map. Where's the bathroom, Steven? Boom! Got you! Where's pirates? Oh, it's on the left after you pass the Jungle cruise. Trust me. And field trips. Don't even get me started. There was nothing like being a twelve year old surrounded by friends, getting sunburned and pretending seventy dollars was a lot for an entire day of joy. That was the magic. It wasn't polished. It wasn't corporate. was imperfect. Sweaty human joy. Back then, adults weren't fighting for Mickey autographs. You didn't have thirty eight year olds crying in front of goofy. Disney was a place for families, not full time influencers, with four hundred dollars custom bubble wands from Etsy. somewhere along the way, we traded wholesome wonder for hashtag content. And then when I started and that's when I started realizing the happiest place, the happiest place on earth, started feeling like a checkout line at target. So let's talk about the real villain in every Disney story the price tag. Tickets now can hit, I think, two hundred and six dollars per day, right? Probably more. And that's before Genie plus Lightning Lane or whatever new buzzword they invented To make you feel privileged while being broke. Because here's the thing. The lightning named Multi-pass that's just corporate code for Skip the peasants, a family of four, spends over four thousand five hundred dollars on a five day trip. Almost half of the Disney going parents literally go into debt for that magical experience. Forty five percent. Which means Mickey's magic trick isn't pixie dust. It's high interest financing. I spent ninety minutes in line for a three minute ride. That's not magic. That's math. And don't even get me started on food. Disney dining has officially reached the stage of a relationship where the looks are great, but the personality is gone. a burger that cost twenty bucks and tastes like regret. A churro that could double as a yardstick. And the magical desserts frozen, thawed, reheated and blessed by the ghost of a profit margin. You know what's wild? The only people worth eating on Disney property aren't even cooked by Disney people. Disney Springs is carrying that company harder than Aladdin's carpet. The truth is, Disney used to be about Escapism. Now it's about economics. And if you can't afford the magic, well, tough. You get the gift shop. And then there's the extreme Disney adult that makes you cringe. The rare creature that roams Main Street USA Clutching a three hundred dollars loungefly backpack. And the tears of children they've cut in front of you. Seen them? Full costume, full commitment. Zero self-awareness. They cry. Meeting characters who literally have shift breaks every ninety minutes. They block parades with iPads the size of dinner plates. They vlog every pretzel bite like it's the moon landing. And they always, always start their captions with I waited my whole life for this moment, ma'am. Therapy was cheaper. These are the people who sprint during rope drop like they're storming Normandy knocking over strollers and grandparents just to ride Peter Pan first. Meanwhile, the actual kids they cut in front of are traumatized for life. And let's not forget the couples. the ones who spent fifteen thousand dollars for a one to two day stay at a Disney resort, they argue about it on TikTok. And then they say, you're not thinking about the memories. Oh, I'm thinking about the memories, specifically the one where you check your credit score after checking out. Disney adults have turned a family vacation into a competitive sport, and honestly, I'm not mad at them. I'm fascinated because they are living proof that nostalgia is the most addictive drug in the world. And real quick, I want to talk about those phone zombies. That kind of bothered me. The ones who record every ride, every show, every bathroom sign, like they're filming a documentary called Disney The Blurry Years. They don't watch the fireworks. They film them. They don't ride the rides. They livestream them. They don't experience joy. They curate it for strangers who don't care. Here's a truth bomb No one wants to watch your shaky video of the queue line. No one is sitting at home thinking, wow, I wish I could see what it's like to wait ninety minutes for a popcorn bucket. Put the phone down. Let the kid behind you see the parade. Let yourself feel something without needing to prove it happened. Now let's talk about the Disney media. Walt Disney once said, I don't believe in sequels. Modern Disney heard that and said, cool. Let's make two hundred and fifty. At some point, the magic became math instead of what story we can tell? it turned into. What IP haven't we exploited yet? Pixar bought. Marvel bought. Star Wars bought. Fox bought. At this rate, their one acquisition away from buying my childhood trauma Walt build an empire on imagination. Bob Iger rebuilt it on mergers. He turned storytelling into an asset management. And you could feel it in every remake, every live action reboot that looks like a tax write off with fur physics. The Lion King, Aladdin, Mulan, The Little Mermaid it's like watching AI nostalgia in 4K. they got billion dollar budgets and zero zero. Soul the problem isn't talent, it's trust. Walt. Trusted audience. Modern Disney studies them like lab rats. They don't want to inspire you anymore. They want to retain you. And that's the difference between magic and marketing. For me, the start of my breaking point happened with the Spider-Man ride at DCA when I used to live in Irvine. when the Avengers campus was announced. I hyped myself up. I seen the models, the videos, the Imagineering documentaries, the YouTubers talking about the possibilities of what it could be. I was ready to be wowed. And then it opened and it was just waving my arms in front of a screen, like I was trying to swat a fly in VR, a Lego Ninjago clone. That's when it hit me. The magic's gone. I remember a Bug's Land. What Avengers Campus replaced. It wasn't flashy, but it had heart. It had details, Easter eggs and personality. Now everything feels like an Instagram backdrop with merch on the way. And don't even get me started on Tiana's Bayou Adventure. they took a story with potential for soul culture and music and somehow made it feel like corporate jazz in a boardroom. I forgot what episode it was, I remember when it was a controversy about how the Splash Mountain was racist. And I remember being like, you know what? It's not I don't think it's racist. I didn't see it that way. But I did feel that it was boring as shit. It needed a change. and I remember riding it in Disneyland is when I got this idea. That part where you're going through the forest and you're going through it for a while. I instantly had this idea, because Princess and the frog is one of my favorite movies. Because of the going back to the hand-drawn animation. And the music. I am a big jazz person too, I love everything about it. The only thing I didn't like. Little side rant. I didn't like that we finally had a black princess in the whole time. She's a frog but I digress. But the idea of the part of the movie. Where Ray is singing that song, I'm going to take you there. I just instantly thought of the all the new technology that's out there, the projections and how they could make this whole thing beautiful. It didn't happen then I thought, because just like Splash Mountain right before you do the big drop, there's that feel of, you know, dark, eerie, obviously. Facilier right. Friends on the other side. Everything could have gone neon. That sound pumping. You see him there doing his voodoo stuff? Oh my gosh, it would have been amazing. But nope. Nope nope nope. It's like Disney's allergic to sincerity. Now everything's polished, brand safe and algorithm approved. so coming off that I want to talk about the elephant in the room Or should I say the socially conscious diversity representing gender fluid elephant in the room. That's right. It's time to talk about about Disney's woke era. Now, before anyone starts clutching their pearls or popcorn buckets, let me be clear. I'm not mad that Disney wants to be inclusive. Take for instance, light year. To me, I'm probably one of the few people that actually did like it. It didn't bother me with the gay stuff because it wasn't. I felt like maybe I'm wrong. I got to rewatch it, but it felt like it wasn't in my face. And I felt like it was a decent story. I liked it. But I'm more mad that Disney want to be inclusive in the most performative corporate algorithm approved way possible. It's like watching a company try to hug you with a spreadsheet. Disney's idea of progress is slapping a rainbow filter on Cinderella's castle during Pride Month, and then quietly removing it on July first like it never happened. They'll cast a diverse lead in a remake. Pat themselves on the back and then sell merch with slogans like be you made in factories that probably don't allow bathroom breaks. It's not representation, it's reputation management. They're not changing the world. They're changing their quarterly earnings report. The remakes could have been three times better if it wasn't for this woke era. We've had live action. Snow White, beauty and the beast, Aladdin, Mulan, The Little Mermaid, each one more reimagined than the last. And by reimagined, I mean they took the original. Added a socially conscious subplot. removed the charm, and injected it with CGI so aggressive it looks like the characters are trapped in a zoom call. They'll say we're updating it for modern audiences. Translation. We're updating it for blue sky discourse and shareholder appeasement. And don't get me started on the dialogue. Every character now speaks like they just finished a Ted talk on empowerment. Snow white doesn't want to whistle while you work. She wants to dismantle the patriarchy while doing it. Even the parks aren't safe. You walk into Magic Kingdom and suddenly every ride has a disclaimer. This attraction contains outdated cultural depictions. Great. Can I still ride it? Or do I need to sign a waiver promising not to be offended. They've renamed rides, rewritten scripts, and redesigned characters not because they had a moral awakening, but because someone in PR said we're trending for the wrong reasons. And oh look. Let's make Trump look like shit. He looks like Hillary Clinton, doesn't he? Oh, it's time to destroy the Americana theme. And they're doing a good job of it. It's like watching a theme park go through a midlife crisis. We're still fun. We're still relevant. Look, We added a non-binary pirate. Here's the thing. I'm not against progress. I'm against empty progress. I'm against corporations pretending to care while doing the bare minimum and charging you extra for it. Disney wants to be woke, but only if it fits in the merch line. Not caring if they alienate the core audience. Only if it can be undone quietly when the news cycle shifts. they want credit for being brave without taking any actual risk. So what's the takeaway with this woke shit? It's not that Disney shouldn't evolve, it's that they should evolve. Honestly. Not through press releases, not through remakes, Not through rainbow colored Mickey ears. Real progress is messy. It's uncomfortable. It's not market tested. It doesn't come with a hashtag. If Disney really wants to be inclusive, they should start by listening. not just to trends, but to people, to fans, to critics, To the kids who just want to see themselves in the story without it feeling like a corporate checklist. Because magic isn't about being perfect, it's about being real. And right now, Disney feels less like a dream factory and more like a brand trying to cosplay as conscience. So yeah, I woke up and I realized the mouse isn't leading a revolution. He's leading a marketing campaign. But hey, maybe that's the real fantasy. That one day the magic will come from the heart again, not the algorithm. So this is goodbye, Disney. We've been through a lot together. You gave me a childhood joy, creative inspiration and some truly questionable food poisoning. But I can't keep pretending this relationship is working. Maybe the real magic was the overdraft fees we made along the way. but in all seriousness, I don't hate you. I'm just disappointed Because somewhere in those boardrooms, in the analytics, in the content strategy, you forgot who you were. You forgot the storytelling is supposed to mean something. Walt dreamed of a place where families could escape reality together. You've turned it into a place where reality hits you with the three hundred dollars Lightning Lane pass. But here's the thing, Disney. I still believe you can fix it. Stop chasing trends. Start chasing wonders. Start being the lead again. Start dominating again. Don't let a minority. Within your company. Destroy what was built. Get rid of them all. I'm tired of this cancel culture. I'm tired of this woke Shit. I'm tired of this cancel culture. I'm tired of the pressure from the woke era. I'm just tired of being told actually commanded bullied to watch something because it's important. Not because it's good, not because it's fun. But because if I don't, I'm apparently complicit in the downfall of civilization. Who knew skipping a streaming service was a war crime? I'm tired of being guilt tripped into watching a twelve part series about a sentient houseplant who's learning to love itself. I just want to see a dragon eat a knight or a Jedi do a backflip. Is that too much to ask? Because these people, these woke fucking people, say you have to support this or you're part of the problem. But here's the thing if your show needs moral blackmail to get views, maybe it's not a show. Maybe it's a Ted talk with better lighting. I mean, look at the No Kings rally. Everyone saw it. dressing like traffic cones. They chanted down with monarchy While waiting in line for the next remake, irony died that day. But let's be honest, these folks don't buy the fucking tickets. They don't buy the games. They don't even buy popcorn. And that's where the real money is. They just want to tweet and blog and cancel. But you can't cancel Joy. and you can't cancel lightsabers. So here's my message to you. Out of places. Watch what you love. Play what you enjoy. If you want to see a raccoon, pilot a spaceship while a tree says I am Groot for two hours. Do it. If you want to cry over a cartoon lion losing his dad for the forty seventh time, do it. If you want to dress up like Elsa and Belt, let it go in your living room, I salute you. Because in the words of Walt Disney himself, laughter is timeless. Imagination has no age, and people who try to shame you into watching their show probably don't have Disney Plus. I want Disney to make something original again. Give us music again. That makes us feel. That stays in our memories. Characters that grow and stories that remind us why we ever cared. Disney. You still got the castle. You still got the mouse. Now you just need the heart. Disney. I have a lot of ideas. And if you ever want to hire someone to help bring that heart back, all I would need. I don't need a salary. I'll just take annual passes for me, my wife and my three boys. That's it. So call me Disney. And that's it. Out of placers. Thank you for sticking around for this one. Remember, the happiest place on earth is in a park. It's wherever you stop letting corporations sell you nostalgia. I'm Steven Daniel, and this was out of place. I love you, I appreciate you, and always remember to smile.